Threads of Fate
by TooDistracted
Summary: Isabelle Archibald's dreams are plagued by images of an alluring young man with chestnut hair and golden eyes. When he materializes, it is sometimes hard to tell dreams from reality. WARNING: Rated for violence, language, and lemons later.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The landscape was vast with rolling hills and thick green woods as far as the eye could see. Ocean waves struck the rocky coast and the smell of salt permeated the air. Isabelle stood on one of the many cliffs overlooking the region, the cool spray of water a welcome respite from the scorching summer rays. A light breeze played with her honey colored hair and Isabelle felt her eyes drift closed as the wind swept around her, the sound of waves breaking against rock slowly fading into the distance. Then came the soft crackle of leaves and trickle of a stream.

Isabelle's cobalt blue eyes fluttered open to find a sudden change in scenery. Rocky cliffs had been replaced by dense forest and thick underbrush. Looking through tangled thorns, Isabelle could make out a small prairie decorated by an assortment of wild flowers, a babbling brook at its center. Isabelle made to enter the clearing but stopped short and shrunk backwards into the brush when a man suddenly appeared. He was incredibly tall with thick, broad shoulders and a burly black beard; a large axe and longbow were strapped to his shoulders. Isabelle watched as he carefully filled a leather sac with water from the stream before moving back towards the tree line. When he was halfway across the clearing, the man abruptly stopped. His fists clenched and without warning, he violently ripped the pouch from his belt and poured its contents on the ground, not stopping until the last drop of water was gone.

Isabelle paled and felt her stomach lurch when a sickening chill of dread swept across her body. Something was very wrong. Her instincts screamed to run and without a second thought she bolted deep into the forest, dodging trees and diving through thick underbrush. Branches ripped at her dress and clawed at her exposed skin but still she pressed on. Isabelle was not fleeing. On the contrary, she was running towards something. _Or someone._

A sharp gasp left the girl's lips when her foot suddenly snagged a vine. Her body crashed through a clump of foliage before tumbling roughly to the ground, landing in a heap. Hot pain sliced up each leg and she laid there for several moments; back pressed against the mossy earth and hair in the dirt. Isabelle took some slow, deep breaths before struggling back to her feet. She moved to take off running again but stopped cold at the sight unfurling before her.

A monstrous wild boar with tusks like razors lay dead only a few meters away, skewered through the heart by a red lance. She slowly inched around the beast and let out a horrified gasp at what she found on the other side. Propped up against the trunk of a tree and smeared with blood sat a young man with wavy chestnut hair and golden eyes. He clutched a short yellow spear in his left hand. His breathing was labored and blood poured from a wide puncture wound in his chest. Leaping into action, Isabelle primed her magic and quickly reached towards the injury.

"Hey! Hey, can you hear me? It's going to be alright. It's going to be-" Isabelle stopped speaking mid-sentence when her hand passed effortlessly through his body. The man did not move and gave no indication that he could feel her presence. "No, no, no. This can't be happening! I can save you!" Isabelle shouted, trying again with the same result. She chanted incantations over and over but it did not seem to matter. The man's eyes continued to grow darker. His skin grew paler and his breathing became more ragged.

Then he was gone.

Time seemed to freeze as Isabelle reached for him one last time, jumping when her hand finally made contact with his cold skin. _Now that he's dead I can touch him?_ She stared at the man feeling overcome with emotion. It was a strange feeling. Her reaction to the death of this stranger was intense. Grief and anger scorched upwards, piercing deep into her chest like a knife as the image of his death burned into her memory. Tears blurred her vision and Isabelle collapsed on his chest, crimson blood staining her white dress as she sobbed.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I couldn't save you. It's my fault," she choked, gripping his tunic tightly, "I should have been with you."

 _Crack._

Isabelle felt her head fly up at the sound of boots crunching through the undergrowth. Recognition flashed briefly in her eyes as the man from the clearing emerged, water sloshing from the leather sac on his belt. This man gave no indication that he could sense her and advanced forward without hesitation. Feeling her stomach squirm, Isabelle maintained a firm grip on his tunic and refused to move even when the bearded man was a mere hairsbreadth away. Isabelle flinched when he reached forward. His hand passed easily through her body and settled on the young man's forehead.

"Guess I was too late. Such a pity," he mused coldly, looking strangely satisfied. "And I walked all the way to the stream just to get this. I even spilled it a few times and had to go back." Isabelle bristled at his tone, her memory flashing back to the moment in the clearing when he dumped the water on the ground. She clenched her jaw and glared daggers in his direction. Completely unaware of her presence, the man continued to speak. "How unfortunate. It would've healed you, Diarmuid. Oh well, best not let it go to waste."

The malice in his tone was unmistakable. Without warning, Isabelle threw herself over the young man beside her and tried in vain to shield his body as the contents of the water sack were emptied haphazardly across his face. The water passed effortlessly through her, splashing into Diarmuid's hollow eyes and trickling into his open mouth, mingling with clotted blood. Once finished, the man placed the heel of his boot on Diarmuid's cheek and proceeded to roughly shove his body away from the tree trunk and onto the ground. A smear of mud was left behind.

"Not so pretty now, are you?" He sneered. Isabelle could feel her body shaking with rage and she lashed out with several incantations, none of which took effect. As the man turned to leave, she grabbed the hem of her white dress and with trembling hands she gently wiped away the dirt and blood marring Diarmuid's face. He was indeed handsome, even in death. Hanging her head low, Isabelle sat next to him with her knees raised and her body curled into a ball. Hot tears burned her cheeks and stung her eyes. She bit back a sob. _It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Everything is wrong._ Glancing to Diarmuid, she bit her lip and carefully moved to close his eyes.

"Don't give up," Isabelle entreated sadly. "Next time, things will be different. I will break this cursed cycle and then you will be free. I promise." She brushed a few strands of hair away from his face before his body suddenly vanished. Springing to her feet, Isabelle stared at the moss-covered ground in absolute shock. _That is not possible-_ she gasped in surprise when strong arms encircled her from behind.

"Isabelle..." A deep, distinctly masculine voice murmured against her ear. Hot breath danced across her neck and she resisted the urge to melt backwards into the embrace. Still trapped, Isabelle spun to face the man and instantly froze in his arms. Golden eyes the color of a lion's pelt bore directly into her own causing her breath to hitch.

"Diarmuid," she realized in disbelief, gaze darting down to inspect his injury. The tunic remained bloody and torn but his gaping chest wound was completely gone. Not even a scar remained. Not believing it, Isabelle permitted her fingers to trace timidly over his exposed skin, marveling at its sudden warmth. Diarmuid observed these actions with interest before gently hooking his index finger and thumb under her chin and lifting her gaze back to his.

"Are you my Master?" He asked seriously.

"What?" Isabelle felt like she was in a daze as the man in question inched closer, pressing the hard contours of his body against her small frame.

"Are you my Master?" Diarmuid repeated, this time a murmur against her lips.

"I…" She trailed off, finding it difficult to formulate a response. Isabelle wondered vaguely if it was a spell as waves of sensual pleasure swept across her body, lulling her mind into a relaxing fog. She placed both hands on Diarmuid's chest, welcoming his advances as he leaned down further to ghost his lips across her cheek and jaw.

"I want to be yours," Isabelle finally breathed, feeling lightheaded while the warrior continued his ministrations. She could feel Diarmuid's lips curve into a smirk against her neck before he dipped his head lower, nipping at her collarbone.

"Good."

 _What is this?_ Isabelle wondered, her thoughts sounding far away as Diarmuid continued to shower her with small kisses and love bites. He was at her shoulder now, fiddling with one of the straps to her dress and oddly she felt no desire to stop him. _This is a spell... It has to be..._ Isabelle was snapped out of her stupor abruptly when a loud beeping noise suddenly filled the air. She blinked a few times and flinched when the sound grew louder, piercing each eardrum. Diarmuid immediately stopped his advances and she watched a small smile grace his features.

"You broke free," he observed with interest, releasing her from his grip and taking a few steps backward. He glanced upward, as if trying to see where the noise was coming from, before the world around them started to fade. Soon it was just the two of them hovering in darkness. "I will see you on the other side, Master."

xxxxxxxxxx

Isabelle woke with a start. Her pulse was racing and a thin sheet of cold sweat clung to her skin. Willing her heart to slow down, she reached blindly for her hospital pager and silenced it before flopping back onto her bed. Her entire body was shaking. _That dream was WAY too real. What the hell was that?_ Trying to put it out of her mind, Isabelle reached for her cell phone and dialed the hospital's number. Hopefully, whatever question they had would be sufficient to distract her mind and rid herself of the bizarre dream.

xxxxxxxxxx

Birds chirped excitedly as the morning sun crept slowly over the horizon, warming the frosted fall ground. Light streamed past dark curtains to illuminate Isabelle's rather unkempt room. The girl in question burrowed further into the blankets, her blonde hair all but disappearing as she hid from the light outside. It was almost time to get up for work and she couldn't help but dread it. The last few weeks had been terrible at the hospital. It was like a full moon except for days and days on end, never stopping. _Plus, not to mention that weird dream last night._

"Stupid Grail Wars," Isabelle grumbled into her pillow, voice muffled by the soft fabric. The magical unrest brought on by the Grail caused numerous disruptions and was in essence the cause of all the weird _happenings_ occurring lately. Plagues, crime, and bizarre weather patterns kept the hospitals filled to the brim and it was only going to get worse. Once each master was chosen, battles would break out across the city and the conflict was sure to result in the deaths of many innocent people. Isabelle hated it. _And this year we get to participate, oh goodie,_ she thought, sarcasm practically oozing from her pores as she slammed the pillow down on top of her head. This action granted her a few more minutes of peace before the sound of a shower turning on jolted her awake once again.

"Oh no, not again," she groaned loudly when the piercing voice of her father's fiancé wafted down the hall. Isabelle was thoroughly convinced that what Sola-Ui called singing was actually a form of torture. After some rather colorful cursing, Isabelle gave up on the idea of sleep and swung her legs out of bed, heading in the direction her personal bathroom. _It's going to be a great day, I can tell already._

About an hour later, Isabelle stumbled unceremoniously out of the Archibald mansion feeling even worse than when she awoke. Exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, weighing her down and making everything foggy as she trudged across the grounds. _Coffee... Lots of coffee. Definitely need some-_ she was startled out of her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder. If the man felt her jump, he ignored it.

"Would you care for a ride, Miss Archibald?" It was one of her father's chauffeurs. Anthony was his name, errr maybe it was Charlie? She couldn't remember. It was so rare for her to use the mansion's vehicles that her interactions with the drivers were few and far between. She expressed a strong preference to use her own car whenever possible, much to Kayneth's displeasure. Isabelle stared at the elderly driver for a moment, pondering his words, before hanging her head and sighing deeply.

"Alright, fine," she mumbled in defeat.

"What was that, Miss?"

"I said a ride to work would be lovely. Thank you," she stated more loudly, causing the driver to beam. The small man quickly ushered her towards a black limousine and Isabelle slid in with ease. "To the hospital, please."

"Yes, Miss!"

Isabelle hoped she could get some sleep on the short ride there but a constant stream of thoughts kept her awake. Her father's engagement to Sola-Ui had been a recent thing arranged by some very prominent members of the Mage's Association and, despite Isabelle's objections, Kayneth readily agreed to the union. Sola-Ui was beautiful and came from a very renowned and influential family. It was a smart match but no matter how hard Isabelle tried she could not bring herself to accept it. No one could replace the mother Isabelle lost, especially not Sola-Ui. The woman was arrogant and condescending, much like all the other aristocrats Isabelle knew (Kayneth included).

She sighed deeply and stretched out on the long seat cushions of the limousine. It was a miracle Kayneth hadn't roped her into becoming a teacher or joining the Mage's Association. Despite bearing the Archibald crest, Isabelle was kind at heart and when she was given the prestigious option of joining the spiritual evocation division she adamantly refused. Kayneth urged her to reconsider but in the end, by some miracle, she got her way. Isabelle enrolled in medical school instead and when she wasn't learning medicine she engrossed herself in the study of curative and restorative sorcery. She trained hard day after day, learning all that she could. Even Kayneth could not deny her natural affinity for the healing arts and he eventually granted her wish by hiring private tutors to train her. That was many years ago and Isabelle had to say it was the best decision she ever made.

The car rolled to a stop at the hospital rotundum and Isabelle took a deep breath. She could see the ambulance bay already full. Not waiting for the driver to open her door, Isabelle jumped out and took off.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Kayneth, she obviously used magic! There can be no other explanation. It's a blatant violation of the codes set down by the Mage's Association."

"I'm sure there is another explanation."

"Like what?"

Isabelle could hear their bickering all the way down the hall as she haphazardly kicked off her shoes and slung her red fall jacket over the nearest banister. This day at work had been much like the rest; non-stop action. Isabelle sort of wished she had slept at the hospital instead of coming home. An interrogation was coming, she could feel it. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she was the cause of Kayneth and Sola-Ui's dispute. She normally was, after all.

Letting out a rather exasperated sigh, Isabelle pushed open the double doors leading to the dining room. The bickering couple quickly grew silent as she pulled up a chair and sat down, feeling relieved when a servant immediately placed a hot meal and a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. She nodded silent thanks before the elderly woman scurried off, leaving her alone with Kayneth and Sola-Ui.

"Welcome home, Isabelle." It was Kayneth who spoke first. "I hope all is well at the hospital."

"Its fine," she replied flatly, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Excellent. Sola-Ui and I were just discussing your remarkable achievements. Is it true you recently saved the life of a young child? The report sounded quite gruesome. The child was near dead on arrival, wasn't he? Severe bleeding from multiple stab wounds?" Isabelle unconsciously tightened her grip on her mug. _Of course, someone just had to notice._

"Yes, I cared for him in the emergency department and got him stabilized," she reluctantly responded, trying to keep her voice level.

"But you know what the bizarre part was?" Sola-Ui stated, her voice rather cold. "When the child was rushed to surgery no internal organs were damaged and the bleeding from his wounds had all but ceased."

"A miracle?" Isabelle offered.

"Magic!" Sola-Ui spat. "You used magic to heal that little brat and in doing so violated one of the cardinal rules laid down by the Mage's Association! What if you had been seen?"

"I wasn't," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Now, now ladies. I'm sure Isabelle has a perfectly good explanation," Kayneth declared, looking at his daughter expectantly.

"I don't," Isabelle deadpanned.

"See! She admits it!"

"I did NOT admit to anything," Isabelle clarified, adding, "but even if I did I wouldn't apologize for it." If looks could kill, she was certain Sola-Ui would have murdered her a hundred times over by now. The older woman was quick to tear into her, scolding her relentlessly. Kayneth simply lowered his head and placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. This was how the arguments usually ended.

"Enough," he finally said, stopping Sola-Ui mid-rant. "We have more important matters to worry about tonight. The preparations are complete for the ceremony so can we all please try to get along for the next few hours."

"No problem," Isabelle replied tersely, packing up her plate and her coffee, "I'll be in my room."

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I need you for the ceremony as well."

"What?! Why?"

"Because I've found a way to link the Heroic Spirit to both myself and Sola-Ui, giving us an edge over the competition. This spell is untested however, so I want you to be present in case things don't work out as planned." _Translation: If things go horribly, awfully wrong I want you there to re-attach our limbs._

"Is this really necessary?" Isabelle asked, having absolutely no desire to participate in the Grail War.

"Yes. I've already taken the liberty of calling you in sick for tomorrow."

"WHAT?!"

"The ceremony could take several hours and may not be completed until daybreak," Sola-Ui explained, setting her irritation aside for the moment. "If something goes awry there's no telling what could happen to us." _This REALLY is not sounding like a good idea._ Isabelle stared between the two of them with wide eyes for a moment. _They are completely serious about this, huh? God dammit._

"Fine," Isabelle finally said, conceding against her better judgement.

"Excellent. The ceremony begins at midnight."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The summoning was challenging. Kayneth's new spell was proving difficult to perform and despite his flawless pentagram design the ritual was requiring far more mana than expected, forcing Isabelle to take an active role. It was near daybreak and her mana levels were approaching a dangerous low. Any lower and Isabelle wasn't confident she could perform healing spells if the need arose.

"We are almost there," Kayneth spoke, panting a bit. The room had grown stiflingly hot and in the dim glow Isabelle could see a thin sheen of sweat over her exposed arms. This was it. One last push of mana and the spirit should materialize. She closed her eyes, concentrating on Kayneth as he spoke the final piece of the incantation.

"If you heed the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne!"

Isabelle felt her eyes snap open and her head come flying up. _What?! I thought we were summoning Iskandar!_ She immediately looked down at the catalyst, wishing like hell she'd paid closer attention at the start of the ceremony. In the center of the pentagram was a torn piece of cloth, presumably part of Alexander the Great's mantle. However, as she investigated closer Isabelle had to clamp her mouth shut to stifle a yelp. It was purple, the very same purple that wrapped Diarmuid's yellow spear while he lay dying in her dream. _Impossible..._ was her only thought as the room began to shake. The pentagram shattered into a million particles of light before combining to form a blinding red radiance. Isabelle covered her eyes for a moment until the light dimmed. And then she heard a voice, the same voice that haunted her dreams.

"I am Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the son of Donn, and first warrior of the knights of Fianna. I have heard your call, my Master. I beseech you, my Lord, please step forth and name yourself." His golden eyes bore into her own, searching them expectantly. So intense was his gaze that Isabelle reflexively took a step back, bumping into a nearby desk. She flinched when a familiar sensation of alluring fog invaded her mind. _Why is this happening again?!_ Isabelle wondered in a panic, feeling an almost magnetic pull in his direction. She glanced at Sola-Ui and was alarmed to discover the other woman seemed drawn to him as well. _He bears a-a spell! Or curse, or amulet…_ Her thoughts were drifting off again. _No, NO! Not this time._

Isabelle met his stare with determined cobalt eyes, pushing some loose strands of blonde hair out of her face. He offered her a dashing smile before taking a step in her direction. _God he's handsome- NO! Think about something else!_ Remembering her saving grace from last night, Isabelle filled her mind with the most obnoxious sound she could think of: a hospital pager. **_Beep. Beep. Beep._** He was coming closer, just a few more steps and he would be right in front of her. **_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._** Isabelle let out a breath of relief when her father stepped between them.

"I am Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald," he announced proudly, "ninth generation head of the Archibald family. And you are my lancer class servant, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne." The heroic spirit in question seemed surprised and shot a discreet look her way, as if asking for confirmation. "So there can be no doubt, I present to you my command seals. Let them serve as infallible proof that I am indeed your master." Lancer's gaze snapped back to Kayneth and in one fell motion he kneeled.

"I swear fealty to you, my Lord. I shall be your shield and your spear, please use me as you see fit." Kayneth seemed pleased with this.

"You will obey my every command and you will win me the Grail, servant. And you will protect all members of my house throughout the course of this venture."

"It will be as you say," Lancer replied while keeping his head bowed.

"Good. Now that our pact has been established, this is Sola-Ui," Kayneth stated as the woman in question eagerly stepped forward. "While I serve as your master, she will supply you with the mana necessary to remain materialized."

"Am I linked to any others?" Diarmuid inquired. "While faint, I feel the presence of another mana signature." Kayneth narrowed his eyes a bit at this.

"Impossible," he replied, a little harshly. "You belong to Sola-Ui and myself. That is all."

"Yes, my Lord," he answered before shooting a curious look in Isabelle's direction.

"That is my daughter-"

"Who is very tired and wants to go to bed," she interjected quickly, more than ready to remove herself from the situation. "Everything went well, no limbs were blown off or sent to other dimensions so good job everybody. If you need me, I'll be in my room. Goodnight!" And with that she was out the door and down the hall.

Lancer watched with interest as Isabelle hastily scurried away, refusing to make eye contact with him again. He felt intrigued and a little confused by it all. While Kayneth was undoubtedly his master and lord, it was not Kayneth's voice that reached across the veil to awaken him. It was not the soft, beckoning voice that whispered promises of loyalty and victory.

 _It was her voice._

 _xxxxxxxxxx_

Isabelle hurried quickly past the servants down the hall to her room. She must have looked like a crazy person flinging the door open only to slam it closed but she didn't care. Once safely inside, she pressed her back against the doorframe and tried to calm her racing heart. The alluring sensation was gone now and Isabelle could think clearly again. She took a few deep breathes which seemed to help.

"This is completely insane," she murmured, sinking to the ground with her knees to her chest. The aura around Diarmuid was incredibly strong. It was intoxicating and made her feel entranced and quite enamored with the servant. Isabelle shook her head violently before glancing at the clock. It read 4:03am. On the plus side, she was off service at the hospital for the next week and had time to figure things out. Knowing she wouldn't feel comfortable until the situation was remedied, Isabelle steeled her resolve, grabbed her laptop, and began researching.

This went on for several days. Isabelle kept to her room, having meals and clean laundry delivered by the servants while she furiously searched through scroll after scroll and book after book. Her bedroom took on the appearance of cluttered library as she delved deeper into Diarmuid's legend. It was easy to deduce the problem; a quick internet search took care of that. Finding a solution, on the other hand, was much more difficult. Diarmuid possessed an enchanted mark under his right eye in the form of a mole. It was a magical love spot granted to him by a young girl and it was said that any woman who gazed upon it instantly fell in love with him. It was more of a curse than anything Isabelle decided as she paged through his history. The mark was near impossible to remove and to do so would require magic far beyond Isabelle's scope. _But maybe I can nullify its effects on me._ Deciding it was worth a shot, she jumped up and grabbed her coat.

As Lancer continued his usual night watch perimeter around the Archibald estate he couldn't help but glance up at Isabelle's window. Wanting to protect her privacy, the first night he did not go near it. However, after overhearing several reports from staff that the young miss was not feeling well he felt obliged to check in. The next night, Diarmuid had peered through her window and was rather amused by what he found. There sat Isabelle fast asleep on an open book and practically buried under scrolls. He could make out some of the titles and felt a smile tug at his lips upon realizing they were all records of Irish and Celtic mythology. There were also some scattered volumes related to curse breaking and several scrolls written in languages he could not understand.

Diarmuid absentmindedly ran his fingers over his love spot recalling how Isabelle reacted when he first appeared. The girl was very astute, no doubt about it. She sensed something was off immediately and steered clear of him ever since. It was strange, Diarmuid decided. He was accustomed to women throwing themselves at him but this one ran down the hall and barricaded herself in a room for three days straight just to avoid him. It was intriguing and frustrating all at the same time.

His walk came to an abrupt halt when the light in Isabelle's room flickered off. Not once in the past three nights had she done that. He debated whether or not to investigate but stopped when the sound of a door creaking open caught his attention. Diarmuid slipped back into the shadow of a large tree and observed as Isabelle poked her head out the front door. She spent a good amount of time scanning the area. _Looking for me_ , he realized with slight amusement. After giving the area a thorough once over (and twice and three times over) Isabelle stepped fully outside and quietly closed the door behind her, locking it. She thought about driving but dismissed the idea quickly when she imagined how much noise it would create. Instead, she set out on foot toward the Department of Evocation.

Lancer frowned as he watched her leave the compound. She clearly did not want to be anywhere near him but this was dangerous. Reckless even. He played with the idea of exposing himself and asking her to refrain from unchaperoned nighttime strolls but there was always the possibility that she would bolt. _And possibly get injured in the process._ Allowing a mildly frustrated sigh escape his lips, Diarmuid discreetly followed her. She maintained a quick pace and reached the Department of Evocation within fifteen minutes. Swiping her keycard, Isabelle stepped inside and climbed the nearest flight of stairs. Lancer swiftly followed and couldn't help but gape at the room he found himself in. He'd never seen so many books in his entire life! The library was like a maze with volumes and scrolls piled from floor to ceiling in every direction, the scent of old parchment and ink permeating the air.

He noted with interest that Isabelle knew exactly where she was going as she navigated between the stacks of books, not stopping until she reached a particularly tall bookshelf. What she wanted was apparently at the top and Diarmuid had to stifle a chuckle when she jumped to reach it and completely missed. She pursed her lips and scowled a bit before glancing around the library with a raised brow. Satisfied that she was alone, Isabelle uttered a quick incantation that sent the book sailing into her arms. She beamed at no one in particular before making her way back outside.

The walk home was decidedly slower. Isabelle had her nose buried in the new book and frankly Diarmuid was amazed she hadn't tripped or run into any light posts yet. He hoped they would make it home without incident but when he spotted a stumbling man approaching he was nearly certain that wasn't going to happen.

"Hey baby, what's a cute girl like you doing out so late?" Isabelle jumped when a hand suddenly grabbed her slender wrist. Her eyes shot up from the book and she wrenched her arm away on instinct, causing the man's grip to tighten. "Careful sweetheart," he slurred, smelling strongly of alcohol. "Walkin' around here lookin' that good is just asking for trouble, ya know."

"Let go, please." Her voice was firm and she attempted to wriggle herself free once more. The man seemed to ponder her words before suddenly backhanding her, hard. The pain was instant and made her eyes water as she hit the concrete below. Magic reflexively crackled to life around her, intending to strike the next person who touched her. She was surprised however when the sparking energy remained relatively still and a gentle set of hands hoisted her back up into a standing position.

"Milady, are you alright?" _It's Lancer_ , Isabelle realized with a start. He was staring at her with worry clearly evident on his face; her assailant was crumpled on the ground behind him.

"You didn't kill him, did you?" She asked immediately, peering around the Heroic Spirit in alarm.

"No," he replied shortly. She breathed a quick sigh of relief before jerking backwards when she felt his hand on her cheek. Isabelle could feel the alluring fog setting in once again and she took several steps away from him, stopping only when her back hit a retaining wall. Lancer seemed a little surprised by her retreat but recovered quickly.

"Miss Archibald," he repeated, this time more gently, "are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Isabelle replied quickly, feeling thankful for the stinging pain in her face and the ache in her side. They served as great distractions from the powerful aura emanating from the Heroic Spirit standing before her. Lancer considered her for a moment. A bruise was already forming on her cheek making him want to turn around and skewer the man on the ground. She was shaking as well but Diarmuid couldn't help but feel this was more related to him, not the assailant. Gods this was frustrating. She clearly wanted to run from him but after that little stunt he wasn't about to let her out of his sight.

"Milady," he spoke again, taking a step forward and internally cringing when she flinched. "It is my sworn duty as a knight in the service of Lord Kayneth to assure your safety, even if I myself am part of the problem." His words immediately caught her attention. "I know the curse mark affects you," Lancer continued, "but there is a temporary way around it if you are willing to trust me." Isabelle stared at him quizzically for moment. Her head was throbbing and the love spot's aura was not making it better.

"Please, Miss Archibald-"

"Isabelle. You can call me Isabelle," she murmured softly.

"Miss Isabelle," Lancer corrected, taking another step forward and feeling encouraged when she did not recoil. "Will you permit me to take you home?" She paused for a moment to consider his proposal. Whether it was the curse mark or intuition Isabelle wasn't sure but trusting him seemed like an acceptable idea.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Just close your eyes and the curse mark's effects will weaken," Diarmuid explained. This made Isabelle rather nervous but she closed her eyes nonetheless. Lancer allowed her to remain standing like this for several moments before inquiring, "Is it bearable now?"

"Yes, it is," she replied with relief evident in her voice. "But I can't keep my eyes closed forever. How will I walk home?" He wanted to make some comment about how it wouldn't be much different from walking with her nose in a book but refrained.

"You don't need to walk," he stated before scooping her up in his arms. Isabelle let out a surprised squeak prompting Lancer to pause a bit in his actions. "Is this not acceptable?"

"No, this is fine," she answered quickly, feeling her cheeks heat up. "You just surprised me, that's all." Satisfied, Lancer began walking in the direction of the Archibald Mansion. They travelled in silence for several minutes before Isabelle spoke up again.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," she apologized while keeping her eyes closed and her head down. Diarmuid could sense her embarrassment as she added, "I don't handle your love spot's effects very well."

"It's alright," he replied, keeping an even pace. "To be honest, you're the first woman to ever run away from me because of the mark. Usually it has the opposite effect."

"Sorry…"

"Don't be, I find it rather refreshing, Milady. However, it does make protecting you a little problematic."

"Hopefully not for too much longer," she responded causing Diarmuid to glance down at her briefly.

"That's what you needed this book for?"

Isabelle nodded in confirmation before suddenly asking, "Did you follow me all the way to the library?"

"Yes," he replied without skipping a beat. She grew silent for a moment making the Heroic Spirit tense a bit. Diarmuid wondered if perhaps he'd done something wrong but relaxed when she gently placed her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Lancer."

"Anytime, Milady. Anytime."

Once his ward was safely tucked away in her room, Lancer resumed his patrol of the Archibald estate trying to ignore the guilt eating away at him. Isabelle seemed to be alright, chipper even when the effects of his love spot were blunted but it did not change the fact that he allowed her to be attacked. It was his fault she was injured. His hesitance to reveal himself put her in a dangerous position. He should have intervened sooner.

 _I can't believe I allowed that man, a lowly mortal at that- not even a Heroic Spirit, to lay a hand on her. It's inexcusable._ Anger and self-loathing boiled in the pit of his stomach, scorching through his veins as he walked.

 _Some knight I am... Can't even protect my own Master-_ Diarmuid abruptly stopped his thoughts, quite alarmed by the direction they were going. Isabelle was not his master. She wasn't even linked to him magically, or so Kayneth claimed. However, Lancer couldn't help but wonder about that. Unless he was imagining things, there was indeed an additional mana signature helping to maintain his physical form. The energy was faint but apparent nonetheless as it contrasted so greatly to the cold, demanding mana supplied by Lady Sola-Ui. This other signature was blissful and warm, like the gentle touch of a mid-summer breeze, and somehow Diarmuid just knew it belonged to Isabelle. _It doesn't really matter. Lord Kayneth is my master and this is my chance to correct the mistakes of the past. I will not fail again._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Isabelle beamed at her finished work. It took almost an entire day to decipher the runes in the book and arrange the lettering to properly neutralize curse auras but finally she was done. And just in time too, any longer cooped up and Isabelle swore she would go insane. Flipping her book closed with a snap, Isabelle dropped the permanent marker she'd been using and strode out of her room in search of Lancer. Hearing the sound of shuffling feet in the lounge, Isabelle reached for the doorknob only to stop when she heard Kayneth's voice raised.

"Why did you fail to finish off Saber when you faced her not once but twice? I gave you an explicit order to assist Berserker and yet you still couldn't finish the job, idiot! I even wasted a command seal. Was your encounter with Saber really that much fun for you?"

"It wasn't like that, Master," came Lancer's obedient reply. "I swear on my honor as a knight, as a servant of the Grail War, I will bring you Saber's head."

"You don't need to swear it to me again! Of course, you will! You made a pact with me to defeat all others to obtain the Holy Grail and now you sit there like a sniveling fool swearing to bring me the head of Saber? What about this do you not understand?!" Kayneth roared causing Isabelle to flinch. She knew that tone in her father's voice all too well. While he was a man of considerable wealth and stature, Kayneth could be extremely conceited and condescending when he did not get his way. Isabelle grit her teeth and tightened her grip on the door handle, ready to barge in there and demand an explanation for his deplorable behavior but hesitated when Sola-Ui's higher pitched voice wafted through the door.

"Aren't you the one who's mistaken, Lord El-Melloi?" Her words were sickly sweet, like honey mixed with poison. "Lancer actually did quite well. I'm afraid it was you who made the mistake." Isabelle frowned as she continued to listen, not liking the way this conversation was going. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Sola-Ui was affected by Diarmuid's curse mark and either she was unaware of its influence or (more likely) she didn't care.

"He inflicted a wound on Saber that cannot heal," she continued to speak, clearly defending Lancer. "If you're really that concerned about her and her lauded abilities why didn't you go after her master instead? You merely stayed hidden and watched. Rather pathetic," she mocked.

"We must take care at the beginning, Sola-Ui. I cannot allow a powerful servant like Saber to slip through our fingers."

"So, you'll hide while you make Lancer take all the risks?"

"Alright, that's enough of that," Lancer spoke up suddenly, catching Isabelle off guard. His tone was polite and yet firm. "Any more will be an insult to my Master and as a knight I cannot allow it."

"No! I didn't mean it like that!" Sola-Ui's voice immediately softened. "I've overstepped my bounds. I'm sorry."

The room went silent for a long moment before Kayneth spoke. His tone was like ice as he said, "Lancer, see that you do not disappointed me again."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now get out."

Hearing footsteps approaching, Isabelle ripped her hand away from the door handle and dove into the nearest room, landing in a coat closet. She shrunk backwards into the hangars and through the mess of jackets she could just barely make out Lancer's boots as he passed by. Isabelle sucked in a deep breath. _That was not a pleasant conversation. Dad certainly could have handled that better and Sola-Ui…_ Her thoughts trailed off as a shiver of disgust ran up her spine. It was no secret that Sola-Ui did not love Kayneth but to go so far as to allow the effects of an infatuation curse to freely affect her was crossing the line. The woman was either stupid or just plain unfaithful _. And Lancer is mixed up in the middle of this mess._

Feeling extremely bothered, Isabelle crept out of the closet and went in search of Diarmuid. She didn't have to look far. The Heroic Spirit in question only went a few rooms down the hall to the study. It was an open room with a large window overlooking the estate. Bookcases lined the walls and the floor was decorated by a large wooden desk and several armchairs; a large cough was situated in the center facing the window. Diarmuid had his back turned with his arm resting against the glass when she approached.

"Lancer?" She asked, getting his attention immediately.

"Miss Isabelle," he exclaimed, whirling around. "I apologize. I did not know you would be using this room. I can leave if you wish-"

"No! It's completely fine. Look," she instructed reassuringly, lifting her left arm and pulling up the sleeve. Scribbled neatly across her forearm in black marker was an intricate set runes. "I solved the problem," she declared proudly with a wide grin. Lancer looked surprised at first but his gaze quickly fell. Isabelle watched while he lifted his hand, as if reaching to inspect the glyphs on her arm, and was surprised when his fingers lightly traced her cheek instead.

"You're bruised," he observed, hanging his head in shame and letting his fingers drop. Diarmuid didn't think it was possible for him to feel worse but one glance at Isabelle had him plummeting into the pits of self-loathing all other again. "I'm sorry, I failed you Milady. I'm a disgrace and a poor excuse for a knight."

"Hey, Hey! Don't do that," Isabelle exclaimed, waving her arms in the air frantically. She had completely forgotten about the minor injury she received. "I'm ok, look," she instructed while placing her palm against the bruise. Lancer reluctantly looked up and watched silently as the bruise vanished under her touch. "See, all better," she declared cheerfully.

"Miss Isabelle, while I'm greatly relieved you are alright, healing the injury does not excuse my mistake," he stated firmly, breaking eye contact once again. "I made an error in judgement and you were hurt because of it."

"You saved me," Isabelle countered, growing frustrated. "If you didn't follow me the situation could have ended a lot worse. You did nothing wrong, Lancer. I made the decision to go out alone. The fault is mine. Now would you please stop beating yourself up about it?"

"If that is what you wish," he replied dully with a polite bow before moving to exit the room. Isabelle felt like tearing her hair out. _This pep talk is not going very well._ She wracked her brain for ideas but none came as Lancer brushed past her and headed towards the open door. Isabelle's eyes suddenly widened.

"Lancer, stop," she ordered, watching his body immediately still in the doorframe. "You're injured."

"I assure you, I am fine."

"You're breathing too shallow," Isabelle observed as her gaze swept over him in a scrutinizing fashion. "My father did not heal you properly after the battle."

"Please, Milady. You need not be concerned-"

"Come here," she instructed abruptly. Lancer hesitated for a moment but in the end complied, settling himself on the couch where Isabelle gestured. "Please remove your shirt and shoulder plate." He once again obeyed, allowing the stated articles to dematerialize. Lancer was acutely aware of Isabelle's presence behind him and he tensed when she set her hands on his bare shoulders.

"It's alright, just relax and let me find the problem."

 _Easier said than done_ , Lancer thought, half expecting her to jump him. He noted with interest however that Isabelle's heart rate was steady and her hands did not move an inch as she gathered magic in her palms. _The runes on her arm must be working._ Lancer inhaled sharply when Isabelle's mana suddenly poured into him, flooding his body with warmth. He suppressed a groan as his shoulders unconsciously relaxed and his eyes drifted closed. He could feel it- her energy. It swept over him like soothing waves, like a gentle summer rain.

"Diarmuid, why didn't you tell Kayneth," she asked, obviously referring to his scattered bruises and broken ribs.

"There was no need. They would have healed on their own," Lancer replied. His own voice sounded far off as he relaxed further into her touch.

"And in the meantime, you would have suffered. I cannot accept that," Isabelle stated while continuing to repair the damaged bone and tissue. "You need to tell my father about these things in the future."

"If it is necessary to ensure our victory, I promise to do so."

"You need to tell him every time."

"I'm sorry, Milady, but I cannot promise that. Master Kayneth has a lot on his mind and I do not wish to burden him with petty requests," Lancer responded. His mind was starting to clear a bit now as Isabelle's magic receded.

"A request to be healed is not petty," she asserted.

"In the right context, perhaps not. However, if the injury does not impede my skills or abilities I see no reason to trouble my master." Isabelle was back to wanting to tear her hair out.

"Fine!" she eventually snapped. "If you're so worried about it then come and find me so **I** can heal you."

"I'm not worried about it."

"Well, you should be! I know I am!" Lancer couldn't stop the surprised look that crossed his features as he peered over his shoulder at her. The flow of magic was about gone now and yet her hands remained in place, providing gentle pressure to the muscles of his back as she stared at him with a fierceness he'd never seen before. Diarmuid felt his breath hitch when their eyes met. _No one has ever looked at me that way. Not even Grainne._

"Diarmuid, I cannot accept this," she stated resolutely. "You are our Heroic Spirit. You are not some tool for my father to use and abuse. You are a living being that can feel pain and emotion just like me and as such I cannot and **will not** let you walk around with injuries that can be fixed."

"Miss Isabelle-"

"As the daughter of your Lord and Master," she declared suddenly, cutting him off, "I order you to report to me every night so that I may heal you." Lancer felt his mouth gape and his eyebrows go soaring up at her words. "If I am asleep," she continued determinedly, "I expect you to wake me up. Are we clear?" Diarmuid wanted to object but felt the words catch in his throat as he stared at her, suddenly very aware of her hands resting on his back and the tickle of her honey colored hair against his bare shoulders. His gaze roamed over her fair cheeks and full lips before stopping at her eyes. They were deep blue, like a storm out at sea. Before he knew what he was doing, Lancer stood from his seated position and moved around the couch to stand directly before her, causing Isabelle to suck in a breath nervously.

"Diarmuid?" She questioned. The uncertainty in her voice seemed to draw him out of whatever trance he was in and she unconsciously relaxed when the upper half of his armor rematerialized.

"Are you sure, Milady? Is this truly what you wish?"

"Yes," Isabelle answered confidently while staring up at him. He was several inches taller than her.

"Very well," Lancer replied before kneeling and lowering his head. "Then I, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, first warrior of the Knights of Fianna, swear to act in accordance with my Lady's request to the best of my ability." Covering her mouth, Isabelle tried and failed miserably to stifle a fit of giggles as the heroic spirit in question fixed her with a look of bewilderment.

"Is something funny, Milady?"

"You-," she paused to catch her breath, "you're so formal and proper all the time. It's really not necessary."

"You are the daughter of my Lord and Master, and as a knight I wish to communicate my upmost respect."

"I suppose it makes sense in front of Kayneth but when we're alone I really don't see the need."

"There is absolutely a need."

"Don't make me order you to be more casual," she threatened teasingly, watching a look of disapproval flicker briefly across his features before vanishing. Isabelle giggled a bit more. _Apparently, he's not so fond of that idea._

"How would you suggest I be 'less formal' in the future?"

"Well, you could stop kneeling for a start." Lancer smirked a bit before standing up to his full height.

"Anything else?"

"You could call me Isabelle instead of some variant of 'milady' all the time."

"What if I like calling you 'milady'?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Then you'll like calling me Isabelle even better." Lancer could not believe this woman. She was rather daring and impossibly stubborn, never giving up until she got her way. She was much like Kayneth in that respect but where he was cold and calculating she was vibrant and filled with life. He honestly had no idea what to do with her. The thought of backing her up against the desk and kissing her senseless crossed his mind but he immediately dismissed the idea, feeling quite alarmed by the direction his thoughts were going. Lancer chastised himself. Isabelle was the daughter of his Lord and Master. Such thoughts were unacceptable and he vowed to restrain himself better in the future. However, as his gaze swept over her determined face Lancer couldn't help but feel this was going to be easier said than done.

He let out a quiet sigh before conceding, "If you insist."

"I very much do," Isabelle replied with a large grin. Her ears suddenly perked at the sound of a clock tolling. She glanced back at Lancer and asked, "Do you have to go on patrol?" He nodded his head but did not move from his position. "Oh, then I guess I'll see you tomorrow night?" There was a small amount of hesitance in her voice as she stepped aside.

"Yes, as per our agreement," Lancer assured her while moving to exit the room. He paused suddenly in the doorway. His voice was low and appreciative as he said, "Thank you, Isabelle."

Isabelle felt her cheeks flush and her heart flutter as he disappeared down the hall. She immediately glanced down at the runes to ensure they were still intact. _Perhaps I need to tweak them a bit_ , she thought with a frown.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Isabelle sat on her bed skimming through a few articles in the latest medical journal. It was nearly midnight and tomorrow she would return to the hospital to complete another round of shifts. She glanced at the clock, finding it rather odd that Diarmuid had not arrived yet. As promised, the lancer class heroic spirit had appeared every night for the past several days for routine examination and healing. Their encounters were brief but reassuring for Isabelle. However, tonight was different. Diarmuid was later than usual and she noted Kayneth was also absent from the mansion. She could only assume a battle was taking place. Isabelle sighed deeply before dropping the journal on her nightstand and switching off the bedside lamp. She pulled up the covers and forced her eyes to close. There was nothing she could do now except wait for them to return.

"You let him get away, Lancer," Kayneth asserted, his voice heavy with disappointment as he strode through the entryway of the mansion with his servant in tow.

"Apologies, Master."

"Assassin was nearly defeated and you let him slip right through your fingers! Your incompetence is staggering."

"I offer no excuse."

"Because there is no excuse! First Saber and now Assassin. We could have eliminated two heroic spirits by now except you couldn't finish the job. Tell me, can you do anything right, Diarmuid?" The question was spiteful and rhetorical prompting Lancer to remain silent. He grit his teeth, wanting to explain that Assassin's entire skillset was aimed at vanishing without a trace but refrained. Instead, Lancer trailed behind Kayneth with his head lowered and his mouth shut. His master sighed loudly in exasperation before placing his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to bed," Kayneth finally muttered, adding, "I've had enough disappointment for one day." Once his master disappeared, Diarmuid let out a slow frustrated breath.

The battle had been dangerous. Assassin was no match for Lancer in a straight up fight but with Kayneth on the battlefield it made things complicated. After he failed to defeat Saber (and after Sola-Ui ridiculed him), Kayneth decided to take a more active role in the Grail War. Normally this would not be a problem but against a servant like Assassin his very presence was a liability. Throughout the course of their confrontation, Diarmuid spent most of his time simply trying to keep the assassin away from his master and of course once he landed a critical blow on the servant it vanished. He hung his head and sighed in frustration.

"Diarmuid?" Lancer froze at Isabelle's voice. Ignoring the way his heart jumped, he straightened up and slowly turned around, his eyes widening a fraction. Isabelle stood in the hallway dressed only in an oversized sweatshirt and slippers. Her blonde hair was slightly ruffled. "Are you alright? You and my dad were sure gone a long time," she observed tiredly, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Lancer simply stared at her for a moment. She was quite cute in her current state but as his eyes travelled lower he could think of several other words that could better describe her. The sweatshirt hung loosely off one shoulder and was rather short, exposing the soft, milky skin of her legs. It was too short, Lancer decided as he averted his gaze elsewhere and tried to distract himself.

"We engaged Assassin tonight," he explained as his eyes settled on the wall next to Isabelle's head.

"Are you hurt?"

"No." Isabelle stared at him skeptically for a moment before grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of her room. Lancer stiffened a bit and glanced down at her arm in search of the runes. The sight of the intricate glyphs peeking out from beneath her sleeve should have offered him some modicum of reassurance but instead his uneasiness continued to grow, peaking when she gestured for him to sit on her bed. Lancer sucked in a breath before complying. He settled himself tentatively on the edge and stared hard at the carpet under his feet. His body posture remained stiff.

"Is this really so terrible for you?" She asked tiredly, catching him by surprise.

"No, Mila- Isabelle," he replied quickly, looking rather startled as his gaze flew up to meet hers. "I greatly appreciated your concern for my wellbeing and I sincerely apologize if I gave such a negative impression. Please forgive me." Isabelle considered him for a moment and couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"You looked like a man on his way to the gallows when I led you into my room."

"Again, I am very sorry Isabelle. Please accept my humblest apologies," he continued to ramble, stopping only when she asked:

"Do I make you nervous, Lancer?" The question was not accusing; it was purely curious and Diarmuid had to think carefully before answering. He glanced down at the glyphs on her arm once again, an action that did not go unnoticed by Isabelle.

"I wish only to protect you, Milady," he stated slowly, watching as she bristled a bit at the formality with which he addressed her. "I have never encountered a woman who was not affected by my charm spell and while your runes appear effective I feel obliged to remain vigilant." Isabelle felt her eyes widen a fraction. _Never? He's never been around a woman who was unaffected by his love spot?_

"So, you never had any female friends?" She asked in disbelief.

"I tried a few times in my youth but it always ended the same. The charm spell influenced their behavior until they became unrecognizable, mere shadows of the friends I held dear."

"Wait, you're telling me every relationship you ever had with a woman was subject to the influence of your curse mark? No woman ever accepted you or loved you without the driving force of some spell? None of it was real?" Isabelle knew she was overstepping but the thought was so absurd and horrible she couldn't help but ask.

She half expected him not to answer and was surprised when he replied solemnly with: "I like to imagine what I had with Grainne was real."

Lancer kept his voice even despite the sudden piercing sensation in his chest. The statement felt empty. It was a pipe dream; a fantasy. He loved Grainne and at the time he truly believed her affections towards him were genuine. Diarmuid thought what they shared was real and his selfish desire to keep it drove him to commit an unforgivable sin: he betrayed his Lord. He wanted to believe it was justified. It was true love. They belonged together. He lied to himself, breathing denial like it was air up until the very end. It was ultimately his fault both their lives ended so tragically. He failed to protect Grainne. His curse mark tore her mind apart and after his death she threw herself from the castle wall. Lancer closed his eyes for a moment, forcing the guilt threatening to surface back down.

A small sniffle had his eyes shooting open. _She is crying_ , Lancer realized, feeling more than a little panicked as he leaped to his feet.

"Isabelle, why-" Diarmuid stopped mid-sentence; frozen by the look she fixed him with. Her cobalt eyes brimmed with tears and several had trickled down her porcelain cheeks to grace the skin of her neck. Her gaze reflected such deep sorrow that Lancer nearly forgot how to breathe. Her emotion was so raw. _So real._ He stiffened when Isabelle tentatively placed her hands on his chest, lowering her gaze before squeezing her eyes shut.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as silent tears dripped onto the carpeted floor. "I didn't mean to bring up such painful memories." Diarmuid had to fight the urge to pull her closer. He wanted to embrace her, wanted to feel the comforting heat of another body pressed against his own. It was shameful and unbefitting for a knight to have such thoughts and yet he couldn't stop them. The temptations toyed with his mind, promising a mend to his wounded heart if only he would give in.

"Please, Milady," he beseeched, "Do not shed tears on my account. I am not worthy of such a thing."

"I'm not your lady," she asserted with a sniffle, catching him by surprise. "I'm just Isabelle. I'm your friend and seeing you suffer hurts me." He could hear the slight hum of magic before gentle energy seeped into his chest and spread throughout his body, sending warmth from the tips of his fingers down to his toes. Lancer felt his eyes close and to his dismay a small contented noise escaped the tight seal of his lips as his tired muscles relaxed. He leaned forward, unconsciously pressing himself closer as her magic delved into every crevice of his body. She soothed the pain away leaving only quiet tranquility in its place. This went on for several minutes before Isabelle's mana slowly receded.

It took longer for his mind to clear this time. Her abilities felt like a pleasant dream and awakening was not easy. Slowly, his grasp on reality returned and Lancer was suddenly aware of a soft pressure against his face and neck. Cracking his eyes open, Diarmuid was rather horrified to discover his cheek now resting on the top of Isabelle's head. The heroic spirit instantly tensed.

"Hey! I just spent a good amount of energy helping those muscles relax, mister. Try to make it last for at least a little while," came the grumble from the woman tucked neatly against his body. She peered up at him with mild irritation. "And you were doing so well too. Finally starting to unwind and then you wake up, find yourself just a hair too close to me, and freak out. I swear, we really need to work on that." Lancer just stared at her incredulously. He could feel it again, the urge to back her up against something, _like the bed_ , and kiss her. He could tug the sweater off her shoulder and-

"Diarmuid?" She asked, immediately drawing his thoughts back to reality. "Not that this isn't pleasant, but I really do need to get some sleep." He sprang away from her as if he'd been burned.

"Apologies, Mila- Isabelle. I did not mean to-"

"Its fine, Lancer. Really. Stop worrying so much about what's proper and try to relax for once," she instructed with a tired grin.

"I will, thank you," he replied with a short bow before spinning on his heels and heading straight for the door. Diarmuid could feel his heart slamming against his chest in protest. His body yearned for the heat of her skin and he could feel the pull deep inside, the urge to turn around and indulge in more primal desires. It was shameful. These feelings were not appropriate and yet they kept happening. He should be able to control himself; he should be able to show some discipline, some self-restraint. Lancer knew he was perfectly capable of chivalrous thoughts and conduct. Goodness knows he'd had his fair share of beautiful women throwing themselves at him over the years and he never seemed to have this problem before. _So why is this happening to me?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"This is an outrage!" Sola-Ui shrieked while storming through the doors of the safe house. "What kind of a mage blows up an apartment building! Uncouth, garish, uncivilized savages!" Lancer watched in silence as she continued to rant, throwing her arms in the air as if to more strongly exercise her point.

"It is deplorable," Kayneth agreed, quite livid. "Saber's master is a coward and so is she for supporting such tactics." Lancer grit his teeth but refrained from commenting.

"They're desperate," Sola-Ui sneered. "Saber is crippled and her master knows it."

"Lashing out like dogs. Does their shameful behavior know no bounds? Is there no limit to how far they will go?" Kayneth's words fell on Lancer like a torrent of ice. _Isabelle. Where is Isabelle?!_ If Saber's master was willing to destroy an entire building there was no telling what could happen if Isabelle was discovered and captured.

"Master, a word if you don't mind," Diarmuid stated quickly, struggling to keep the alarm from his voice.

"What is it, Lancer?"

"My Lord, Miss Isabelle is still at the hospital."

Kayneth's eyes widened a fraction and a fleeting look of panic crossed his normally calm features as he barked, "Go there and retrieve her immediately!"

"Yes, Master." Lancer vanished instantly, dissolving into his ethereal form and racing toward the hospital. His stomach twisted uncomfortably and his heart pounded as he moved; his thoughts plagued with images of finding Isabelle dead. He skidded to a stop at the hospital rotundum and quickly slipped inside the facility. The lobby was mostly deserted this early in the morning. Only one lone security guard sat at the entrance and Lancer brushed past him with ease. He was invisible to most people in this form. However, unlike a ghost he was still limited by material barriers. He could not travel through walls or people, a fact that was becoming quite annoying with all the locked doors he was coming across. The place was like a prison! Even the laundry room was locked!

Lancer scowled. He considered simply breaking down every door he came across but that would undoubtedly attract attention and possibly set off an alarm. Finding himself back at the lobby, the heroic spirit took a slow, frustrated breath and tried to recall what Isabelle had said to him. She was a doctor and mostly worked with children. Spotting a sign reading "Pediatrics", Diarmuid followed the arrows until he reached the most eastern wing of the hospital. The walls were a vibrant blue color and he noted several craft projects taped to doors and displayed in the halls. He paused and breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing Isabelle's voice from a nearby room.

"What's wrong, Ella?"

"I'm scared. I don't want to go down there without Barry." Drifting into the room, Lancer was surprised to find Isabelle sitting on the edge of a hospital bed next to a small girl. The child was buried under blankets and tears glistened in her eyes; she gripped her teddy bear tightly. "The nurse told me Barry can't come but I can't do it without him."

"The nurse was right, he can't go with you to the operating room. At least not dressed like that."

"What do you mean?" The girl asked with a sniffle.

"Well, to be in the operating room you have to dress all fancy," She explained with a playful grin. Lancer watched as Isabelle stood and wandered over to a cabinet in the corner, retrieving a child-sized blue shirt, a roll of tape and a box of gloves.

"I'm certain they'll let Barry go if we get him into the proper outfit."

"Really?" The girl's voice was hopeful as she sat up in bed.

"Yes. Everyone in the operating room must wear blue and they have to wear a funny hat. It's the rules, you see." Ella's mouth formed into the shape of an "O" as Isabelle settled herself back on the bed.

"What kind of a funny hat?"

"It has to be poofy, like the ones the lunch ladies wear."

"Do you have any that fit Barry?" The girl gushed, thrusting the teddy bear into Isabelle's lap and squirming out of bed. Lancer noted with interest that her leg was in some type of brace.

"Unfortunately, no, but we could make one. Would you like that, Ella?"

"YES! YES!" She shouted excitedly. "Is that shirt for Barry too?"

"It sure is. Can you put it on him while I make his hat?" Ella nodded her head rapidly before snatching the scrub top and shoving it onto the brown bear. It was much too large but the girl didn't seem to mind.

"What else does Barry need?"

"He needs some gloves."

"Ok!" Lancer had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Towards the end of their project, Barry the bear was dressed in an enormous blue shirt with gloves that were much too big (Ella vigorously taped them in place, of course) and a hat made from tissue paper secured with even more tape. The sight was ridiculous.

"Are we all done?" Ella asked excitedly.

"Almost, he only needs one more thing. Now where did I put it?" Isabelle mumbled, fishing around inside one of the many pockets on her white coat. "Ah ha! Here we go," she stated triumphantly, pulling out a surgical mask and placing it on the bear's face. "There, now he's perfect."

"Ella, are you ready?" Called a voice from the hall. An elderly woman pushing an empty wheelchair appeared at the door shortly after. Lancer narrowly avoided her as she entered the room.

"Yep. Barry and I are both ready!" The girl replied proudly. The older woman glanced from the stuffed bear to Isabelle before breaking out in a large grin.

"I can see that. I'll have to let your surgeon know he's got an extra helper today! Barry can sit right by me and be a circulator."

"Okay!" Ella shouted, clearly having no idea what a circulator was but excited nonetheless. "What are we waiting for, let's get going," she chirped, throwing Barry into the wheelchair and proceeding to push it out of the room. Despite Ella's limp, she made it most of the way down the hall before the elderly woman could persuade her to sit in the chair with Barry. Diarmuid watched a fond smile grace Isabelle's features before she hopped off the bed and moved towards the computer in the opposite corner. Lancer scanned the area briefly and, once satisfied no one was around, he rematerialized.

"Isabelle." He suppressed a chuckle when she let out a loud squeak.

"Lancer! What are you doing here?!" She whispered loudly, grabbing his hand and dragging him further inside the room before closing the door. "What if someone sees you-"

"We have to go," he interrupted.

"What? No, I can't leave now, I'm working."

"There was an attack a few hours ago," he explained seriously. "The entire apartment complex where your father and Lady Sola-Ui were staying was destroyed. Master Kayneth asked that I bring you to the safe house."

"The entire apartment building?" Isabelle asked slowly, looking quite horrified. "What about all the people inside?"

"Safe. Saber's master pulled the fire alarm before leveling it to the ground."

"Dr. Archibald?" Isabelle jumped when a knock came at the door. Lancer vanished moments before it swung open. "There is a young woman at the nurses' desk asking for you. She says it's urgent."

Isabelle could feel Diarmuid's hot breath on her ear as he quietly said, "Don't go."

"Um, tell her I need a few more minutes and then I'll be right out," she instructed while trying to keep her voice even. The nurse looked at her strangely but complied, shutting the door behind her. Lancer reappeared instantly.

"Is that woman at the desk here to kill me?" Isabelle asked in alarm.

"Quite possibly. What is the fastest route out of the building?"

"Down the staircase at the end of the hall," she replied, adding quickly, "but we can't go that way. It leads to the surgical area and Ella is down there! What if she follows us? I'm not leading some psychopath directly to one of my patients."

"Is there any other way?" Isabelle thought for moment before dropping her gaze to the ground.

"No. All other routes lead directly past the nurses' station." Lancer silently cursed before grabbing her around the waist and materializing his crimson spear, Gae Dearg.

"Hey, what are you-" she was cut off when the heroic spirit in question promptly shattered the window and launched them both from the five-story building. Isabelle was surprised she didn't scream. The air seemed to catch in the back of her throat leaving her voiceless as they plummeted to the ground below.

She landed completely enveloped in Lancer's hold but that didn't last long. He released her immediately and after giving her an urgent shove, he whispered, "Run."

Adrenalin sizzled through her veins like acid as she tore through the parking lot, nearly slamming into the side of her car as she rushed to get the door open. Isabelle fumbled with her keys and after what seemed like forever she heard the lock click. There was a pause. **BOOM!**

Isabelle's vision went black and deafening silence filled the air. Then came the ringing in her ears and the taste of ash in her mouth. Everything hurt. Noxious fumes burned her lungs and nose, stinging her eyes when she cracked them open. The world slowly swam back into view and she was suddenly aware of something heavy pressing down on her.

"Lancer?" Isabelle croaked, feeling air suddenly flood her lungs when the man in question shifted his weight off her chest to peer down at her with worry. She felt her eyes widen upon realizing she was caged beneath him. Behind Diarmuid, roaring flames and thick smoke billowed out of the vehicle and glass shards were scattered across the ground. Her mind reeled. _My car just blew up._

Isabelle flinched when Lancer suddenly moved, dragging her roughly against his body as he leaped behind another car. She could hear a barrage of bullets denting the metal and ricocheting off the ground seconds later. He tucked her tightly against him to shield her small frame as his spears materialized. Through the glass of the car, Lancer could see the assailant was a woman with raven colored hair. The heroic spirit shifted forward with the intent to attack but stopped upon hearing incantations roll from Isabelle's bleeding and chapped lips. At her words, a dense fog swiftly descended upon the parking lot coating it in a mist so thick it blocked out both sight and sound. Isabelle forced the miasma to separate near them, revealing a narrow path leading away from the parking lot. Lancer needed no instruction. Within seconds, the heroic spirit swept her up in his arms and took off towards the exit. Even after bursting out of the fog, Diarmuid kept going. He moved quickly across the city placing as much distance between them as possible.

Lancer was livid. His entire body shook with rage as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop. He wanted to rip the assailant apart; wanted to shred her into pieces until nothing remained. He could easily have done it too. Isabelle's fog provided the perfect cover for battle. _Too risky. A stray bullet could have hit Isabelle or worse, Saber could have intervened._ Diarmuid inhaled sharply and tried to calm himself, his grip on Isabelle a little tighter than it truly needed to be.

 _She almost died. That explosion would have killed her._ Lancer felt his stomach churn unsettlingly as images of her broken and mangled body under the wreckage flashed before his eyes. A cold, unfamiliar feeling washed over him then. **_Fear._** Lancer balked a bit at the revelation. It was rare for him to experience that particular emotion but there could be no mistaking it. He was indeed afraid. _Afraid of losing her._

Once confident they were a safe distance away, Lancer chose a secluded area and slowed to stop. He carefully lowering Isabelle to the ground and his gaze swept over her body.

"Isabelle, are you alright? Are you injured anywhere?" He asked urgently while his hands gripped her shoulders tightly. She did not respond; merely stared at him with wide eyes. Her body trembled under his fingers and he could see tears starting to pool. Isabelle looked scared now, her adrenalin rush all but gone.

"You're burned," she observed with a whisper, reaching a shaky hand to touch the side of his neck.

"I'm fine," he insisted before repeating, "Are you hurt anywhere?" She blinked some tears away and shook her head.

"Not seriously, I don't think. Let me see your back."

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." Lancer practically growled in frustration. Even shell-shocked the girl still managed to be pushy. He let out an aggravated sigh before turning around to let his back face her. Isabelle did not waste any time. Within seconds, her magic was flowing over his skin soothing and repairing the burns he received while shielding her. He remained silent and relatively still as she worked. However, a quiet sniffle soon caught his attention.

"I'm sorry," she murmured sadly, shutting her eyes tight and lowering her head. "It's my fault you were hurt. I never should have left the mansion." Spinning on his heels, Lancer startled Isabelle by cupping both her cheeks in his hands and forcing her head up to meet his gaze.

"Don't apologize," Diarmuid instructed, his hold gentle and yet firm. "This was not your fault." Her eyes were wide like a frightened deer and he watched as she bit her lower lip, clearly struggling to remain composed in his presence. Frustration evaporating, he sighed deeply before pulling her against him and tucking her head underneath his chin. "It's alright, Isabelle. You're safe now, I won't let anything hurt you. I promise." Finding her voice lost, she simply gripped the back of his armor tightly as silent tears made their way down her face.

"Thank you, Diarmuid."

Lancer struggled with the situation he currently found himself in. It was disturbingly reminiscent of the conflict he faced with Grainne. Apparently, he was cursed to forever covet what he could not have; like a moth drawn to flames. He was ashamed to admit it but Isabelle had caught his attention. She was beautiful, intelligent, and incredibly kind. _And immune to my charm spell._ The love spot's effects had been a consistent part of his adult life and allowed him to predict without fail a woman's intentions towards him.

Not anymore. Isabelle's immunity left him in the dark and for the first time ever Diarmuid felt uncertain when it came to the opposite sex. He desperately sought her approval but wasn't sure how to get it. It was disconcerting and enthralling all at the same time. Isabelle was completely free to refuse him and that fact stirred something deep inside him; a primal urge to chase and win her heart for his own.

Lancer knew these desires were wrong and yet he couldn't stop them. It was ridiculous. He absolutely could NOT be developing feelings for the daughter of his master. This was his one chance to make things right; to serve honorably and faithfully. He couldn't bear the shame of wounding his lord twice. _But this isn't the same,_ his mind protested _._ _Fionn would have gladly given his daughter to you. What he took issue with was you running off with his wife._ Diarmuid mentally cursed. Kayneth would surely not approve of a servant romantically pursuing his daughter. Lancer was only a shadow, after all. He was a fleeting specter summoned and bound by the laws of the Holy Grail. His relationship with Isabelle, if it ever existed, could only end in tragedy.

 **"** ** _But what if you win the Grail? You are entitled to one wish, are you not?"_**

Diarmuid felt his body still. He immediately tried to put the thought out of his mind but this did not stop the flood of warmth that washed over him. He unconsciously embraced Isabelle a little tighter, an action that did not go unnoticed.

"Lancer, are you okay?" Isabelle asked, peering up at him with worry. The concern behind her eyes was so genuine it about took his breath away. She was captivating. She was so damn distracting that he couldn't peel his eyes away. All mental warnings seemed to fade as Diarmuid reached out a hand and lightly brushed away Isabelle's remaining tears before cupping her cheek, gently tilting her face up. He then proceeded to lean down and place a soft kiss on her forehead, his lips hovering for a moment. He was surprised when she angled her face up to allow their noses to touch.

"Diarmuid?" Isabelle questioned. Lancer struggled to restrain himself, his self-control quickly slipping with her lips so close. God how he wanted to kiss her.

"Yes, Milady?" His own voice sounded far off as he stared into her stormy blue eyes. Lancer could feel her pulse racing under his fingertips and his heart skipped a beat when her gaze flitted down to his lips for a moment.

"I told you to call me Isabelle," she reminded, eyes fluttering closed when he tilted her head up further.

"Sorry, Isabelle," Diarmuid corrected, his breath hot against her lips. Lancer tightened his grip on her waist and was in the process of dipping his head down when a flood of icy mana suddenly poured over him. He froze in place as a chill swept up his body. Kayneth was calling him.

"Lancer, is something wrong?" Isabelle asked anxiously.

"Your father is calling me."

"Is he in trouble?"

"I do not know."

"We have to get moving, Lancer. What if I was a diversion to draw you away from him? Saber could be at the safe house right now."

"Hold on tight," Diarmuid instructed before quickly hoisting her into the air and taking off. An overwhelming sense of shame settled across his shoulders shortly after. _I almost lost control. This can NEVER happen again. That was reckless and completely inexcusable behavior._ Lancer mentally scolded and berated himself repeatedly as he ran. However, no matter how harsh his reprimands they could not drown out a simple truth: _She did not push me away._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Isabelle had half a mind to murder her father. After bolting across the city, she and Lancer arrived back at the safe house only to find Kayneth impatiently tapping his foot. No Saber. No emergency.

"There you are. What took so long? I've been waiting for hours."

"Apologies, Master. There were complications," Lancer replied, settling Isabelle back on her feet before bowing politely. Kayneth's eyes widened a fraction at her disheveled state. Ash stained her clothes and a small amount of dried blood clung to her face.

"Complications?" He hissed, causing Isabelle to bristle. "What sort of complications? What happened to my daughter, Servant?"

"Nothing happened," Isabelle immediately asserted, her shoulder brushing against Diarmuid as she protectively took a step closer to him. "I'm alive because of his actions. Someone, I assume Saber's master, rigged my car to explode. Lancer protected me." Kayneth shot the servant in question a cold look.

"Is this true?"

"Yes, my Lord. Someone was sent to kill Miss Isabelle at her work. I witnessed this person shooting at us when the car bomb failed."

"And you let them get away?!" She could feel Lancer's body grow tense.

"I thought it more prudent to remove Miss Isabelle from such a dangerous situation rather than engage the enemy. Apologies, Master."

"Typical. Just typical," Kayneth muttered indignantly before turning back to his daughter. She glared at him fiercely and remained near Lancer, refusing to move away. Kayneth gave her a strange look before saying more gently, "The important thing is you're safe. Now I can finally go to bed without worrying so much. You should get some sleep too, Isabelle."

"I'm not tired." There was an awkward silence. Isabelle watched an uneasy look flicker across her father's features as he glanced between her and Lancer.

"Very well, do as you wish," he eventually replied, sounding exhausted. Kayneth bid her good night before retreating down the hall. Once Isabelle was certain he could no longer hear them, she let out a loud sigh and plopped down on the nearest sofa.

"I fucking hate the Grail Wars," she muttered with a huff before brushing some ash off her clothes. Lancer did not comment. In fact, he'd scarcely moved from his position standing near the door, a fact that caught her attention.

"Hey, you okay?" Lancer did not respond, his gaze remaining transfixed on the floor in front of him. Isabelle frowned and proceeded to stand back up, quickly crossing the short distance over to him. She placed a hand on his back and jumped when his body suddenly tensed. "Diarmuid, what's wrong? Why won't you talk to me?" She asked urgently while moving to stand in front of him. He deviated his gaze to left, refusing to meet her eyes.

"I should go," he stated before bowing shortly and stepping around her. Isabelle immediately moved to block his path.

"Lancer, what happened earlier?" His body froze at the question and she watched his jaw line tense. Again, he made to exit the room but this time Isabelle placed both hands on his chest, applying pressure until she had him backed against the door frame. He did not resist. "Diarmuid, look at me," she ordered calmly. Once he complied, she continued, "Please tell me what's wrong. You are making me worry."

"I behaved in a very inappropriate fashion."

"Yeah, ignoring your lady's questions and trying to escape down the hall is pretty rude." Isabelle couldn't help but smirk at the annoyed look that flickered across his features briefly. She chuckled a little before stating in a more serious tone, "Is this about what happened when I was crying?" Lancer nodded his head solemnly.

"I placed you in a compromising position and for that I sincerely apologize."

"We get to do this some more, huh?" Isabelle sighed unenthusiastically before releasing Lancer and placing her hands on her hips. "Diarmuid, you should know me well enough by now to understand that I don't give a damn about what's proper. We've hugged a few other times and it didn't seem to bother you this much." _I wasn't planning to kiss you those other times._

"This time I initiated the contact," he asserted. "I imposed myself on you."

"At any point did I try to push you away or ask you to stop?" She asked pointedly. Lancer opened his mouth to respond only to close it.

"No, you did not."

"Exactly. To be clear, I find it perfectly acceptable for you to initiate any kind of contact you want."

"You don't mean that." _She doesn't mean that. She would_ _ **not**_ _find it acceptable for me to pin her against the wall or bend her over the back of the couch._ A shiver ran up Lancer's spine at the visuals. This really needed to stop happening.

"I do mean that, actually." _She does_ _ **NOT**_ _mean that._

"And what if I were to initiate contact you don't approve of?" He asked with a raised brow.

"You won't." He snorted at that. "And if you do," she continued, ignoring him, "I will ask you to stop."

"And what if I don't stop?" Isabelle felt her eyes widen in surprise. His question was confusing. _Of course he would stop…_

"Diarmuid, you would never intentionally hurt me. If you didn't stop, I guess I would just have to trust you." Lancer felt astonished. His chest swelled with pride at her statement while at the same time a nervous fear clawed at his insides. Her faith in him was not deserved.

"You are right, Isabelle. I would never harm you, of that you can be certain."

"Which is why I'm not worried," she responded simply before offering him a wide smile. "Now stop brooding. You did a great job protecting me today and I don't want you spoiling it with imagined failures when I go off to bed. Which will be soon, since I totally lied about not being tired." Lancer felt an amused smile tug at the corner of his mouth when she yawned loudly.

"Um, but before I go... I should thank you properly." Before he could react, Isabelle promptly leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, sending a flood of warmth through his body. Lancer inhaled sharply and resisted the urge to reciprocate. The act was purely innocent. _It was not an invitation._

"Thank you for saving me, Diarmuid." A light pink blush stained her cheeks as she ducked her head and brushed past him.

 _You're welcome, Isabelle._

 _xxxxxxxxxx_

Isabelle awoke on a cold wooden floor in a dimly lit room. Shadows flickered across grey stone walls and a smoldering fireplace the only source of light. In the darkness, she could scarcely make out the shape of wooden chairs lining several long tables. She maneuvered carefully across the room before exiting out a large set of double doors into a long hallway. The castle was damp and Isabelle shivered when a gust of winter wind blew open a nearby window as she passed by. Moonlight spilled inside, illuminating a sturdy oak door with a brass handle. Feeling drawn to whatever waited on the other side, Isabelle placed both hands against the rough surface of the wood and permitted her body to sink across the barrier. Her skin met a flood of warmth once she materialized inside the room.

Glancing around, Isabelle spotted a young woman with light brown hair sitting across from a roaring fireplace. She wore a long white dress and was adorned with several golden bracelets and other jewels. She was stunningly beautiful and yet hollow at the same time. Her cold, empty eyes stared into the flames as if she wanted nothing more than to crawl inside and disappear in a cloud of ash. Isabelle jumped when a servant passed through her body to attend the young woman.

"You do not look happy, Princess," the handmaiden remarked while running a comb through the woman's long brown hair.

"How can I be? In a few short hours I will marry not Oisin or Oscar, but Fionn Mac Cumhaill himself. The man is old, Maire. He is old enough to be my grandfather."

"I'm sure he will make a fine husband, Lady Grainne." Isabelle suddenly recoiled as the atmosphere in the room grew dark.

Magic swirled to life around the princess, whirling and twisting like a venomous snake as she insisted, "I will not marry him." **_I'm going to run away with a champion of Fianna instead._**

Grainne's thoughts sent a chill down Isabelle's spine. Fionn had many strong and proud warriors but only one possessed a mark that would undoubtedly attract the princess's attention. Isabelle bolted for the door, desperate to find Diarmuid before he encountered Grainne. If only she could distract the hero or delay him, then perhaps the Irish princess would choose another suitor instead. Bursting out of the room, Isabelle was dismayed to discover herself back inside the mess hall where she had awoken. However, now the party was in full swing. Every chair was occupied and the fireplace roared with life. Men cheered and clanked their mugs together, their mead spilling onto the tables and floor.

Grainne was already present and was seated on a throne next to Fionn. Isabelle's face grew pale with recognition. _It's him. The man from the clearing who allowed Diarmuid to die._ Hatred surged through her veins like acid as images of Lancer's death flashed violently before her eyes. Isabelle felt her hands ball into tight fists and magic crackled to life around her threateningly. She took a few deep breaths to quell her anger. Shutting her eyes tight, she took a step backward and was surprised when she bumped into something. Isabelle spun around and was stunned to find Diarmuid's golden eyes staring back.

"Master?" He questioned in confusion, his gaze a little clouded. Isabelle felt her heart jump into her throat upon realizing another woman sat astride his lap.

"My Lord, why did you stop?" The woman whined as a pout spread across her face. She shifted a bit, pressing her body impatiently against Diarmuid. Isabelle immediately backed away. A scarlet blush made its way across her cheeks and an unpleasant emotion unfurled in her stomach. Seeing Lancer with another woman really shouldn't be surprising. His love spot made him especially popular with the ladies and while chivalrous in nature, it would be unreasonable to expect him to turn down every woman's advances. He was human, after all. It shouldn't be a big deal. _So why does this hurt so much?_ Isabelle jumped when a soldier suddenly passed through her. Lancer must have sensed her distress because he quickly untangled himself and stood from the table. The woman objected but he paid her no mind. His attention rested solely on his master who was looking uncertain and more than a little frightened.

"Isabelle, what's wrong? Is everything alright?" The girl in question did not answer for a moment as she peered around him. Grainne was watching them. _Shit. We need to get out of here._

"Lancer, we have to leave this room."

"But the celebration-"

"Please, I need you to trust me." Diarmuid stared at her strangely for a moment but complied nonetheless. Grabbing her hand, he led Isabelle away from the party and down an unfamiliar hallway. They walked in silence for several minutes before Lancer finally stopped in front of a large wooden door. Releasing her hand, he pushed it open and gestured for her to go inside. Isabelle obeyed without a second thought and was surprised to find herself inside what appeared to be a small bedroom; the glowing embers of a fire kept it dimly lit. She could just scarcely make out a bed in the corner along with a small dresser. Lancer's spears were propped up against the wall and glinted dangerously in the darkness. She jumped when the door closed behind her.

"Alright, we're far away from the celebration now," Diarmuid stated before lounging on his bed and gesturing for Isabelle to sit. She settled herself timidly next to him, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the situation. "Care to explain what's going on, Master?"

"How come you can see me and touch me but no one else can?" She blurted out unexpectedly, catching him off guard for a moment. He chuckled lowly, a sound that made her heart flutter.

"Because you're not actually here. These are my memories, Isabelle," he explained while one of his hands moved to play with a strand of her hair. "You're supposed to watch them as a passive observer. But you haven't been doing that, have you?" She gulped when the heroic spirit slid a little closer, his hand drifting lower to caress her neck. "You've been actively trying to change the past at every turn. You've been attempting to change my fate."

"I'm only trying to protect you," she asserted, struggling to keep her voice even as Diarmuid continued to brush against the sensitive skin.

"I wish you could, my love," he murmured before suddenly rolling to pin Isabelle against the bed. She let out a squeak of surprised followed by a soft whimper when he pressed his hips in between her legs.

"Diarmuid?" His name came out more as a soft moan than a question as his head dipped down to place butterfly kisses across her neck and collarbone. Isabelle felt her back instinctively arch and her hands moved to rest on his shoulders. She considered pushing him away but the thought was fleeting and she instantly forgot about it when his tongue lightly traced over her pulse. Her body seemed to move on its own as her head tilted to the side, offering Lancer even greater access to the sensitive skin. He smirked against her neck and Isabelle had to bite back another moan as he rocked into her once again.

"Your immunity to my charm spell is making this more difficult than usual," Diarmuid breathed into her ear. "Most women would be begging me to take them by now."

"What if I don't want that?" She countered breathlessly causing the heroic spirit to pause a bit in his actions. He peered down at her and couldn't help but grin at her flushed countenance and tousled hair.

Lancer considered her carefully before stating, "I am yours to command. If you wish for me to stop, you need only ask." Isabelle felt her heart jump at his words. They were reassuring and gentle, and his touches were so affectionate they about took her breath away.

"Diarmuid, I-" She paused when he moved back slightly, as if anticipating her rejection. Isabelle could feel her cheeks burning as she whispered, "I want you to kiss me." Lancer's golden eyes widened in surprise and an intense spark of emotion flickered briefly behind them.

"As you wish."

Isabelle nearly groaned when Lancer finally sealed his lips over hers. He kissed her slow and deep, his hands roaming over her waist and hips while he gently coaxed her mouth open. She could feel his tongue skim over her bottom lip seeking entrance. When she did not immediately grant it, Lancer gripped her tight and pressed his hips forward sending a jolt of pleasure sweeping across her body. He swallowed her loud moan and immediately took the opportunity to explore her mouth. Isabelle felt dizzy as he fervently and thoroughly kissed her, his hands burning a trial up her thighs before stopping to play with the hem of her white dress. Letting instincts take over, Isabelle brought her legs up to wrap around his waist and was surprised when Diarmuid suddenly broke the kiss to inhale sharply, a low groan escaping his lips when her thighs tightened around him.

"Isabelle," he murmured before moving his head down to her collarbone. "You are making this so difficult for me."

"What?"

"I don't want to leave you," Lancer confessed before sitting up and settling Isabelle in his lap, his arms wrapping tightly around her small frame.

"I don't understand," she breathed in confusion, feeling him press soft kisses into her hair. Isabelle froze when Grainne's voice suddenly wafted into the bedroom.

"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, I have need of you. Please come attend your princess." Realization hit Isabelle like a bucket of ice. _He still needs to go to her. If this is a memory, the outcome cannot be changed._

"Wait, you're not planning to go out there, are you?" She asked with a desperate edge to her voice.

Diarmuid smiled sadly before catching her lips one last time in a chaste kiss. The scenery flickered around them for a brief moment and then she was alone. Glancing down the empty hall, Isabelle spotted Grainne approaching Diarmuid. She opened her mouth to call out but no words came. Voiceless and paralyzed, Isabelle stood rooted to the ground and could only watch with sickening dread as Grainne fulfilled her vow. Magic twisted around the princess like a serpent and in one brief move, she sealed her curse with an unexpected kiss. The air seemed to still as the geis was set. A curse that would force Diarmuid to abandon his lord and commit a grave offence against his country. Isabelle wanted to blame Grainne. She wanted to hate the Irish princess but logic would not allow it. A geis required the consent of both parties. Diarmuid sealed his own fate when he fell in love with Grainne.

xxxxxxxxxx

Isabelle woke from the dream in a cold sweat. Tears burned her eyes and prickled her cheeks as a draft from the open window swept into the room. She shivered under the blankets and bit back a quiet sob, taking a couple deep breaths. These dreams were beyond real. They made her body ache and toyed with her emotions to such a degree that Isabelle wasn't always certain where the dreams stopped and reality began. Sitting up in bed, she jumped when a gentle pressure settled on her shoulder.

"Isabelle?" Her heart jolted when a set of golden eyes came into view. She recoiled from Diarmuid immediately, feeling guilty when he appeared confused and slightly hurt.

"You were crying in your sleep," he stated quietly. "Were you dreaming about me?" The panicked look that crossed her face was the only confirmation he needed. Lancer sighed deeply before seating himself on the edge of her bed. "I'm sorry that happened. Normally the dreams only affect my master but since Lord Kayneth used both you and Lady Sola-Ui during the summoning all of you seem to be subject to their effects."

"Everyone has been getting these?" Isabelle whispered in disbelief.

Lancer nodded his head solemnly and added, "However, it seems you have been affected the most. From what I can gather, your father and Lady Sola-Ui have only seen brief pieces of my past. But that does not seem to be the case with you."

"What do you mean?"

"The flow of magic is different around you for some reason. Your experiences seem to be less of a dream and more of a trance. I tried to awaken you several times but was unable to. It was worrisome," he admitted as his gaze moved to his own hands. "I feared you would not wake up at all."

 _He was afraid?_ Isabelle thought in astonishment, her gaze transfixed on the man before her. He looked quite troubled.

"I'm fine," she tried to reassure him, placing a hand gingerly on his shoulder.

"Perhaps now, but moments ago you hurt so deeply I feared something horrible was happening. I could feel your emotions, Isabelle. Your fear and sadness." _And your affection for me._ Lancer suppressed a shudder as his body recalled the flood of sensations that washed over him while she dreamed. Shameful desires had filled his mind causing him to almost retreat from the room for fear of what he may do should she awaken. There was no longer any doubt that they were connected. _But what happened to her? She should only witness memories and yet-_ Bringing his gaze back up, Lancer stared at Isabelle thoughtfully. _She withdrew from me. But why? The runes on her arm are still intact._

"What happened in the dream, Isabelle? What did you see?" He pressed. She bit her bottom lip and did not answer for a moment.

"I witnessed the geis Grainne placed upon you."

"And that was sufficient to create all those emotions?" He asked in disbelief. Lancer watched with concern as Isabelle averted her gaze and shifted a bit away from him. A sudden horrifying thought occurred to him.

"Did I do something to you during the dream?" He asked abruptly, feeling his stomach drop when her eyes widened and her body immediately tensed. **_I did something to hurt her._** His mind reeled. _Did the curse mark affect her?_ _Did I take advantage of her? Is that what those sensations were?!_ Panic flooded his system and he immediately moved from the bed to kneel on the floor. His chest was hurting terribly and bile was rising in his throat.

"I'm so sorry, Milady," he apologized wretchedly. "Whatever happened was not your fault. I am the one to blame. Please, we must go and tell Master Kayneth at once. Perhaps something can be done about these dreams-"

"No!" Isabelle suddenly interjected, crawling out of bed hastily and joining Lancer on the floor. "You silly knight," she hissed before grabbing his face with both hands and forcing his head up to meet her fiery gaze. "We are NEVER telling Kayneth about this."

"But Milady, I deserve to be punished."

"For what?" She asked, now thoroughly confused and a little alarmed by the pleading in his voice. "Diarmuid," she spoke more gently while coaxing his gaze up to meet hers. She searched his eyes for a moment before asking, "What is it that you think you've done?" He swallowed harshly before lowering his head once more in shame.

"I could feel other emotions besides your fear," he admitted, causing Isabelle to bristle. "I could feel desire and lust as well, and I think I know why. In my selfishness, perhaps I did something so horrible, so unforgivable to you that I can never stand in your presence again."

"I'm not quite sure I understand-" Isabelle stopped abruptly upon realizing his meaning. Her eyes widened in horror and without a second thought she threw her arms around his neck, feeling his body stiffen as she insisted, "That's not what happened. You would never do that, Diarmuid."

"Then what happened to make you hide from me?" He asked urgently, pulling back a little to let their eyes meet. "What did I do to you?"

"You- Well, you," she faltered a bit under his serious gaze. "You kissed me, alright!" Lancer blinked a few times, as if not believing her.

"I kissed you," he repeated.

"Yes. And before you go jumping to more conclusions I thoroughly consented to it," Isabelle stated with a huff, wishing like hell she could crawl back under the covers to hide her scarlet blush. And it was only getting worse.

"Just one kiss? That made me experience all those sensations?" The lancer class heroic spirit sounded very skeptical.

Isabelle was fairly certain she was going to die from embarrassment as she opened her mouth to explain, "Well, we might have made out a little in your bedroom too." Lancer raised an eyebrow at this.

"So, you _thoroughly consented_ to making out with me in my bed?"

"Hey, don't give me that look! The entire thing was **your** idea!"

"It probably was," he chuckled. "That sounds exactly like something I would do but I'm a little surprised you would go along with it."

"It was a dream! And you can be very persuasive!" Isabelle defended, her blush intensifying when a cocky smirk suddenly made its way across his handsome features.

"So, you're comparing my skills to that of others? I'm honored you find mine so satisfying."

"I've never been with any others so I wouldn't know!" She snapped before covering her mouth in horror, eyes wide as saucers. _Shit, I did not just say that. Dammit!_ Lancer looked surprised to say the least. His eyebrows soared upwards and he stared at her with newfound appreciation.

"You've never courted before?" He asked incredulously.

"That term is out of date," she muttered haughtily before replying with, "I've been out with a few guys but no, I've never been in a serious relationship. I never had time."

"Well, now I feel kind of guilty for teasing you."

"Good, you should!"

Lancer chuckled again before stating in a more serious, apologetic tone, "I am truly sorry the dream was so unpleasant for you."

"It wasn't unpleasant," Isabelle confessed quietly, cheeks burning as she admitted, "I actually enjoyed most of it." His eyes lit up with a strange glint at her words.

 ** _I could kiss you again._**

The thought hung in the air silently as Lancer watched her slip back into bed. It was a terrible idea and yet there was nothing in the world he wanted more at that moment; to feel the heat from her skin and the taste of her lips. The temptation was almost overwhelming. While he knew it was only a dream, just a magical trance brought about by the Grail's mischief, Lancer couldn't help but feel elated by Isabelle's receptiveness to his advances. The sensations leaking through the dream were so intoxicating they about drove him mad. _She's never been with another man._ Lancer wasn't sure why but this new piece of information added to the appeal. Desire haunted his thoughts and tested his self-restraint as he rose from the floor. His feelings for the girl were intensifying and Lancer wasn't quite sure how to stop it. She terrified and excited him all at the same time. He was afraid to leave her alone.

"You keep hovering, Lancer," Isabelle pointed out, sounding tired. "Would you like to stay?" Diarmuid was fairly certain it was meant as an innocent invitation but that definitely did not stop his imagination from wandering.

"You would permit such a thing?"

"Of course, I'll even let you share the bed if you promise to keep your hands to yourself," she replied sleepily, rolling over to the opposite side.

"Your father would not approve."

He stifled a laugh when she mumbled, "Who gives a fuck?" Deciding the bed might be a little too much temptation, Diarmuid settled himself on a long, padded bench near the window and closed his eyes. Heroic spirits did not require sleep but he supposed he could remain in this room tonight. The window provided a good vantage point and from this particular spot he could quickly reach any location in the safe house. It was an acceptable position to maintain until morning.

"That bench isn't very comfortable," Lancer heard her warn from across the room.

"Are you trying to get me into your bed, Miss Isabelle?" He asked in amusement, eyes still closed.

"No, I was just saying," she mumbled stubbornly, burrowing under the covers some more. She remained quiet for a few moments before continuing with, "but I wouldn't be opposed to it."

"What if I try to take advantage of you?"

"You won't, I trust you. Now get over here and make me warm. It's freezing in this room." Lancer rolled his eyes at her antics but complied nonetheless. _Just this once._ He promised himself before kicking off his boots and laying down. He tried to relax but found it impossible under the heap of blankets Isabelle suddenly threw over him. Quickly losing patience, Diarmuid proceeded to tug each one off the bed except for one.

"Hey! Give those back!" She protested loudly, moving to crawl over him to retrieve them off the floor. She didn't get far. Before Isabelle could react, she found herself pressed tightly against Lancer's body as his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. Her head was resting on his chest. Heat radiated off him in waves and Isabelle couldn't help but nestle a little closer. His body was warm and inviting, exactly as it had been in the dream.

"Are you violating our agreement, good sir?" She accused albeit it halfheartedly. Her eyes were already starting to drift closed.

"You ordered me to keep you warm, remember? Now relax and go to sleep." Isabelle thought she heard a slight strain to his voice but she was too tired to ponder it. Within moments, exhaustion swept her away from reality and carried her into comfortable darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

The safe house was a dark and rather dreary place. From the outside, it was an abandoned warehouse with adjacent parking ramp. The cracked cement walls were rotten with decay and overgrowth of plants gave it a wild-looking appearance; rusted metal debris was scattered across the ground. It was a desolate place located on the outskirts of town. Kayneth never anticipated they would need to use it as a hideout but after the destruction of the apartment complex he affectionately referred to as his "Magic Workshop" they really had no other choice. Isabelle was just thankful the interior was livable. Using dimensional magic, her father was able to mold a section of the crumbling warehouse into an exact replica of the living quarters of their apartment. However, it was not home.

She could never go home. Assuming she survived the war, Isabelle could never go back to the hospital. Her life in Fuyuki City was over the moment Kayneth chose to involve her in the Grail War. Isabelle sighed deeply before flopping back onto her bed, holding her left arm up to the light. Her eyes traced over the intricate glyphs in a scrutinizing fashion. More and more lately she found herself drawn to Lancer. At first, she was able to ignore it but now _ever since that dream_ Isabelle couldn't get him out of her head. She wanted to believe her runes were failing, that they were defective. However, a careful examination made it quite apparent they were functioning properly. _So why am I feeling this way? Am I falling for him?_ Isabelle shook her head forcefully at the thought. She couldn't allow this. While she cared deeply for the Irish spearman, fantasizing about a romantic future together was completely unacceptable. They were close friends and nothing more. _We can't be anything more._

Isabelle jumped in surprise when the door to her room suddenly slammed open. Lancer appeared in the doorway looking out of breath and quite desperate as he supported a badly injured Kayneth. Isabelle felt her blood turn to ice at the sight.

"Miss Isabelle-"

"Dad!" She exclaimed with fright, jumping out of bed and gesturing for Lancer to lay him down. Crimson blood soaked into the sheets as she demanded, "What happened?"

"Milady, I sincerely apologize-"

"Don't apologize, Diarmuid. Just tell me what happened."

"Master Kayneth attempted to breach the castle while Saber and I faced Caster in the forest. He encountered Saber's master and engaged in a dual."

"He was shot twice," Isabelle remarked while inspecting Kayneth's injuries. "The first bullet tore through his shoulder and fortunately missed the major blood vessels but the second one…" She trailed off uncertainly as she examined the entrance wound; the hole was small but emanated a strange aura. Deciding to investigate, Isabelle allowed her mana to seep carefully into the injury and was surprised when she met resistance. Within seconds, a harsh backlash of energy surged from Kayneth's body scorching her skin and sending her hurling backwards.

"Isabelle!" Diarmuid shouted, catching her before she could collide with the wall. "Are you alright?"

"I think so," she replied with a groan, glancing back over to her father. "His own magic tried to attack me. What the hell did he get shot with?"

"I do not know. He was already unconscious when I arrived." Isabelle narrowed her eyes and moved towards the bed, missing the nervous look that flickered across Diarmuid's face when she placed her hands back on Kayneth. She was more cautious this time as her magic tentatively explored the wound, swirling through the damaged flesh until it hit a foreign body. Examining the object further, Isabelle determined it was a bullet and immediately took steps to try and dislodge it. However, the second her magic engulfed the shard a bolt of electric heat shot up her arm causing Isabelle to recoil with a hiss. _Looks like I need to do this the old-fashioned way._

"Lancer, I need you to put pressure on this wound here," she instructed before wandering over to the dresser in the corner. Fortunately, Kayneth's dimensional magic pulled into existence not only her furniture but also everything stored inside and after some brief digging, Isabelle pulled out a sterile surgical kit and gloves.

"What is that for?"

"The bullet lodged in his chest is interfering with my magic. I need to remove it before I can repair the damaged tissue." The heroic spirit nodded and moved slightly to the right, allowing her more space to work. He continued to maintain pressure at the other wound site while Isabelle grabbed a scalpel and some tweezers. She would need to be careful when removing the bullet. It was lodged in the back of Kayneth's ribcage along the spine and she would need to successfully bypass several important structures without the use of magic to retrieve it. Lancer watched silently as Isabelle worked, marveling at the steadiness of her hands and how calm she remained. He felt rather useless in comparison.

"Got it," she finally breathed, dropping the tiny metal ball into an empty tweezer box. Isabelle inhaled deeply before pulling off her gloves and placing both palms on her father's chest. "Ok, let's try this again." The change was immediate. Within seconds, Kayneth's labored breathing steadied and the damaged tissue began to slowly knit itself back together. Lancer heaved a sigh of relief at this. He slumped against the corner of the bed and slid to the ground, allowing his eyes to close for a moment.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"I can regenerate his lung tissue and after a few sessions I should be able to repair his spinal cord. However, I do not know if my father will ever use magic again."

"What?" Lancer asked with a start, his stomach filling with dread. Isabelle nodded sadly.

"Whatever this bullet contained, it caused the magic circuits in his body to misfire and reconnect improperly. This is something I cannot fix."

"So, he will never fully recover." It was more of a statement than a question. Lancer hung his head low at the news as his hands balled into tight fists. Isabelle settled herself next to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"This wasn't your fault, Diarmuid. My father chose to press forward without you and even after encountering an enemy he chose not to summon you. The blame is not yours to bear."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know the depths of your loyalty. You would never abandon my father and I'm positive the moment you sensed danger you moved immediately to his side." Lancer sighed deeply.

"I wish he would have waited for me."

"I know, but you can't blame yourself for his rash actions. I love my father dearly but he is not a perfect man. He can be arrogant and incredibly stubborn sometimes. I'm just thankful you were able to bring him back alive."

"It was ultimately by your hands, not mine, that he survived." Diarmuid pointed out.

"My skills cannot revive the dead. You brought him back alive. Now stop being so humble and just take the damn compliment." This brought out a small chuckle from Lancer. He still felt utterly miserable but Isabelle's presence helped. The war wasn't over yet. _I still have a chance to make things right._

 _xxxxxxxxxx_

Lancer watched with mild anxiety as Isabelle's silhouette disappeared into the backseat of a taxi. Despite his protests, she insisted on making a trip into the city to purchase medicinal supplies. Her stores were currently running low after spending much of the night stabilizing Kayneth. The damage to his magic circuits was extensive and after the initial healing session several of his wounds re-opened as a result of his own magic assaulting his body. Isabelle remained at his side most of the night and looked thoroughly exhausted. Dark rings decorated the undersides of her eyes and her normally vibrant skin was ashen. She appeared completely drained. In fact, Lancer had been on his way to insist she get some rest when he noticed she was in the process of tying her shoelaces. He immediately objected and when that didn't work he insisted on accompanying her. _Which also didn't work._

Instead, he was left sitting on the roof of the warehouse watching her descend down the winding road and climb into a taxi waiting at the bottom. Horrifying scenarios plagued his thoughts, keeping him rooted in place long after she disappeared. This was risky. Caster was still on the loose and Saber's master was no doubt searching for their whereabouts. If Isabelle was caught- a violent shiver crept up Lancer's spine at the mere thought. He hated this. _But she's right. I can't leave my master alone in his condition and if these herbs can help stabilize his magic circuits then it is worth the risk. I just wish I could be in two places at once…_

Beneath him, within the confines of the warehouse, Kayneth stirred in his sleep. He now rested in a make-shift infirmary located down the hall from the living quarters. It was a dimly lit and barren looking room enclosed on all sides by cement walls. Isabelle hated moving him to such a place but the magic pulses spewing out from Kayneth's body threatened to destroy the dimensional enchantments holding the hideout together. To protect its structural integrity, she was forced to place him in part of the warehouse that was not being used. Lancer assured her the arrangement was only temporary but this did not seem to make her feel any better. Kayneth tossed his head back and forth in bed, his knuckles white from gripping the sheets so tightly before he finally woke with a gasp.

He sucked in air as if drowning and his voice was hoarse when he croaked, "That dream I had… It was the legend of Diarmuid. Were those the memories of my servant?" Kayneth blinked a few times and craned his neck from side to side, inspecting his surroundings. He attempted to sit up and was quite alarmed when his arms and legs did not respond. Leather straps kept him bound to the cot, restraining any excessive movement.

"I see that you're awake now."

"Sola-Ui," Kayneth exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this? What- What am I doing here?"

"So, I gather you have no memory at all of what happened to you?" She asked calmly from her place standing beside a water basin. She was wringing a damp cloth in her hands.

"I- I was shot. I defended myself with a Volumen Hydragram, but… What happened to my body?"

"Your body's magic circuits have misfired somehow," she explained solemnly, settling herself next to him. With the moist towel she delicately cleaned his right hand, her fingers tracing over the command seals lightly while stating, "You're lucky you didn't die instantly. Isabelle was able to regenerate your organs and repair most of your spinal cord but your magic circuits were utterly destroyed. I'm afraid you'll never use magic again." Kayneth felt his eyes widen in shock and all the remaining color drained from his face. _No, it can't be true._

"But I can't- this can't be…" His voice cracked.

"Shhh, don't cry, Kayneth," Sola-Ui cooed as she brought the cloth up to wipe tears pooling at the edge of his eyes. "It's too soon to give up. It will be alright, we haven't lost yet." Kayneth grit his teeth and swallowed hard, forcing down a sob. His magic was gone. Everything he'd worked for was destroyed in an instant. He shut his eyes tightly, listening to his fiancé as she continued to speak.

"If the Holy Grail is truly an omnipotent wish-granting device, then healing you completely and making you whole again should be easy. We need only to win. If we succeed and claim the Grail everything will return to how it was. So, with that in mind, why don't you give the command seals to me?" Kayneth felt his eyes fly open at her proposition. "That way I can take over as Lancer's master," Sola-Ui continued, her voice like poison honey as she whispered, "I'll win the war and bring you the Grail."

"No!" He immediately refused.

"You don't believe in me? Me, who will marry into the Archibald family?" Sola-Ui asked unhappily, looking quite hurt by his words.

"No, I just… Do you think Lancer would actually just abandon me and swear fealty to you?"

"I do," she replied with a knowing smile, "He is a heroic spirit here by the Grail's invitation. He desires the Holy Grail just as we do. Even if he must change masters, Lancer will accept it for the sake of the goal."

"He won't! Lancer isn't the fine man you think he is," Kayneth asserted harshly, struggling a bit against the straps holding him down.

"And why do you say that?"

"When I asked him what he would wish for, Lancer said, 'I have no interest in the Holy Grail.' A servant with no desire for the Grail is impossible! He's hiding something important from me, I'm certain of it," Kayneth declared, struggling some more. "However, no matter what deep dark secret he's hiding, so long as I bear these command seals he must obey me unconditionally. He is nothing but a puppet, a dog in my grand schemes."

"Kayneth," Sola-Ui warned.

"I won't give you the command seals." Sola-Ui sighed deeply at this.

"You still don't understand, do you?" She mused, the atmosphere surrounding them suddenly growing very cold. She pursed her lips slightly, her nails trailing up his right pinky finger as she said, "You still don't get it. We must win this war no matter the cost."

The entire experience felt surreal. Kayneth wanted to close his eyes, to pretend it wasn't real. His Sola-Ui would not do something like this. However, a slight tug and a brief snap of bone proved him wrong as his pinky finger suddenly dangled limply from his hand. His eyes went wide with horror. _This is not the woman I fell in love with._

"Listen Kayneth," Sola-Ui instructed, her voice sickly sweet as she traced his ring finger next. "With my limited skills as a healer it is quite impossible for me to remove any command seals by force. I'm sure your darling daughter could do it but I'd rather not involve her in our _domestic_ disputes, wouldn't you agree?" Kayneth inhaled sharply, fear suddenly taking hold at the mention of Isabelle.

"Don't hurt my daughter-"

"The bearer's willing consent," Sola-Ui continued, ignoring him, "Is the only way for me to take the seals without resistance. If you truly cannot accept this, you will leave me no choice but to **amputate** your right arm. What's your answer?" A sob ripped free from Kayneth's throat. He lost his magic and now he was going to lose his command seals and quite possibly the woman he loved to his own servant. _And Isabelle…_ After a brief moment of silence, he nodded his consent. Sola-Ui smirked at this.

"See, was that so hard? Now let us begin the ritual. I am already linked to Lancer so the process shouldn't take long."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Isabelle heaved an exhausted sigh as she collapsed on a park bench. A brown paper bag filled with medicinal herbs and other potion materials sat on her lap as she allowed her eyes to close for a moment. She felt drained. Her entire body ached from the strain of using so much magic last night. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for the next ten years but her father's fragile condition made that impossible. His magic circuits were going completely haywire and until she got them settled down Isabelle was afraid she wouldn't see much rest. The circuits were damaged far beyond repair but she could at least stop them from firing so much. Isabelle was just thankful the magic shop had all the ingredients she needed. She stretched out on the bench a bit, enjoying the brisk fall air. It was almost midday. _I really need to get back, Lancer is probably worried sick._ Ignoring the way her body groaned, Isabelle slowly stood and began to walk down the path, easily brushing past what appeared to be a pair of tourists.

"Hey, boy, why do they call this particular food a hot dog? Is it truly made from dog meat? Because that seems quite uncivilized." Waver Velvet rolled his eyes and let out an exasperate sigh. His servant's thirst for the outside world was insatiable. Practically every day was spent gallivanting around town and it was driving him completely insane. The man was too curious for his own damn good!

"What about castles? Does your city have any of those?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Then how will you defend against enemy attacks? Ah, so your country bets everything on offense! I see! What a bold and audacious strategy!" Waver felt like smacking his head against a rock. This was ridiculous. _We should be formulating a strategy! We should be hiding out, not wandering around town like a pair of idiots!_ Waver's thoughts paused when he realized Iskandar was no longer talking. The heroic spirit's gaze was directed towards a patch of trees.

"What is it?"

"Someone was following that young woman." Waver blinked a few times and turned his head in the direction of the walking path.

"You mean the girl carrying the brown bag?" Rider nodded his head once. The heroic spirit appeared to be deep in thought before he suddenly grabbed the smaller boy by the back of his scarf and began dragging him in the direction of the forest. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"We're going to check on the young lady, of course!"

Isabelle's breath came in sharp gasps as she kept her back pressed against a tree. Thick fog swirled around her once again. _Its Saber's master. It has to be._ While she was confident her magical prowess was beyond his, the methods he employed were too dangerous to be taken lightly. If Isabelle wasn't careful she could end up just like her father. She took a slow, shaky breath. Panic was simmering just beneath the surface. She was exhausted and terrified. _And I wish Diarmuid was here._ She clenched her teeth and inhaled deeply through her nose. Going to pieces would not solve anything, she needed to remain calm and think of a way out of this situation. For now, the magical fog concealed her presence but it wouldn't last forever. Isabelle's energy levels were low and soon the mist would dissipate, exposing her location. Running and revealing her back to the enemy was not an option. _He would shoot me for sure._ _My only chance is to strike first. I know where he is, I can feel the pressure of his body against the fog. Alright, here goes nothing!_

In an instant, the mist completely dissipated and revealed Kiritsugu for a brief moment as he dove quickly around a tree and into the underbrush. His location confirmed, Isabelle bombarded the area with a wide breadth of needle-like ice shards. They pierced completely through the trunk of Kiritsugu's tree and stuck into the ground like clear, jagged spikes. She expected to hear him cry out in agony but when the forest remained silent Isabelle stiffened. The crack of nearby branch had her spiraling backward; an ice shield quickly materializing when Kiritsugu emerged to her left. _What the hell? How was he able to move so quickly?!_ The shield repelled his initial shots allowing Isabelle time to coat the forest floor under his feet with a slippery layer of ice. With his escape compromised, she launched another barrage of ice shards. Again, he disappeared. She moved to react but was too slow when a bullet ripped through her upper thigh, sending her toppling to the ground. The pain was excruciating and Isabelle felt her vision blur as she quickly encapsulated herself in thick cocoon of ice. Struggling to maintain consciousness, she immediately focused mana to control the bleeding. The bullet severed her femoral artery and she could die within minutes if the vessel wasn't repaired.

"You're quite skilled," she heard Kiritsugu remark, his voice muffled through the ice. "It's a shame your father chose to involve you in this."

"Shut up!" Isabelle hissed. "You know nothing about my father. At least he has tried to pursue the Holy Grail with honor, not underhanded tactics like you. I saw the bullet you used. Are you really so desperate to win that you would chop out a section of your own body and turn it into a weapon?"

"Yes," he responded coldly, circling the ice shell like a predator. "And I'm desperate enough to use tactics far worse than that. If you want to live, I suggest you cooperate with me."

"Fuck you," she spat, flinching when a barrage of bullets smacked against the cocoon.

"You're cornered, Isabelle. There is nowhere to run and eventually your barrier will collapse."

"Lancer will find me before then!"

"I sincerely doubt that. And even if this defense of yours holds up, I have plenty more bullets like the one I used on your father. It will penetrate this ice and destroy your magic circuits. But I won't let you die right away. I will prolong the suffering until you tell me the exact location of Kayneth's hide out." Isabelle felt her face pale at his words.

"You will kill me either way. I might as well force you to waste a bullet."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But if you don't come out within the next 10 seconds, I **will** shoot you. 10…9…8…" Isabelle curled into a ball, her mouth clamped shut and her eyes closed tightly. She refused to cry. _Lancer, please… Please help,_ she begged desperately.

"7…6…5…4…" The sound of a hammer cocking sent a panicked, violent shudder across her body. Isabelle's mind screamed at her to run but there was nowhere to go.

"3…2…1-" CRASH! Isabelle flinched and covered her eyes protectively as the ice shell suddenly shattered around her. Then she was being roughly drug out. She yelled and thrashed wildly against her captor but his grip was like a vice.

"Calm down, young miss. You are safe now for I, Iskandar, King of Conquerors, hath saved you from your icy prison!" Isabelle felt her body grow limp with shock. She dangled high off the ground cradled roughly against the man's bronze chest plate. He was nothing short of gigantic, reminding her of a bear. His arms were decorated with leather cuffs and his appearance looked quite wild with his burning red hair and beard. A thick mantel adorned his broad shoulders. He was grinning proudly, appearing quite pleased with himself.

"You are Rider," she stated in disbelief. This only caused the hero's smile to widen.

"Ah, so you know of the Holy Grail War. You must be a magus!" Isabelle nodded her head mutely as Iskandar lowered her to the ground. "Perhaps you know my master! Boy, do you know this girl?"

"You stupid idiot! You can't just go around saving damsels and picking fights! What the hell were you thinking-" Waver was cut off when the larger man flicked him forcefully on the forehead, knocking him to the ground.

"What kind of a hero would I be if I allowed a young maiden to get locked in a block of ice and be attacked in my presence? The very notion is absurd." A nervous giggle escaped the tight seal of Isabelle's lips, drawing Iskandar's attention. He gave her a bewildered look.

"That ice shell was mine," she explained, chuckling a little more when he glanced down at the crushed cocoon with a fresh perspective. He looked rather horrified, like he'd broken some expensive vase. "But I do sincerely appreciate your assistance. I thought I was a goner for sure."

"It was nothing!" He perked up immediately. "We just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Isn't that right, boy?" Waver just rolled his eyes before thrusting a brown bag into her hands. Isabelle stared at him in surprise.

"This is yours, isn't it? I picked it up for you," he explained with a light blush, refusing to make eye contact.

"That was good, boy!" Iskandar roared, knocking Waver to the ground again as he delivered a joyful thump to his shoulder. "Now you should ask the nice lady out to lunch!"

"What, no!"

"I'm sorry, but I really should be getting back-"

"Excellent! There is a place a few blocks down I've been wanting to try that serves something called a 'hamburger'. Supposedly it's made from beef so I'm not quite sure why they call it ham. This country is odd." Waver and Isabelle were left little choice as the giant man threw an arm around both of them and quickly steered them in the direction of the restaurant.

"So, Isabelle," Iskandar spoke, his voice much more calm now that they were settled at a table. "I see no command seals on your hands but I'm willing to guess you are involved in this somehow. That man who attacked you wasn't some drunkard or robber. He wanted something else from you, am I right?" Isabelle took a sip from her coffee and nodded her head slowly. She was hesitant to reveal too much information but she supposed Rider deserved an explanation.

"My family is participating in the War," she admitted, setting the cup down on the table. "I had no desire to get involved but the actions of some masters have made that impossible."

"I take it they have been unable to defeat your servant and are instead targeting you?"

"Yes. I have tried to lie low as much as possible-" Waver shot Rider an accusing look. "But one of the people I care about was gravely injured and required additional medicine."

"That is why you entered the city unaccompanied?"

"Yes, I explicitly instructed our servant to remain at the hideout. Though he did object quite a bit..." Iskandar stroked his beard a little in thought.

"You are a brave woman," he eventually declared, a strange twinkle in his eye. "There are not many who would risk their life as you did today to save a fallen comrade. It is a shame you have no interest in the Grail. Any truly good and courageous hero would be thrilled at the prospect of serving a master like you." Isabelle was rendered speechless. It was quite a statement. Alexander the Great was certainly skilled when it came to flattery but something in his tone of voice convinced her that he was being completely serious. She glowed a little with pride and unconsciously relaxed further into the booth. Isabelle wasn't sure why, but she felt comfortable around this man. _And even if his intentions are less than noble, I'm sure as hell safer with Iskandar than out there with Saber's master._

Lunch was entirely pleasant. After the initial interrogation, Rider regaled them with tales of victory and adventure, describing in vivid (and rather graphic) detail the battles he fought to acquire Persia. He then proceeded to laugh when recounting how, after finally conquering Persia, he was too short to reach Darius's throne despite his great height.

"The man was monstrous, I swear," Iskandar insisted, "I've never seen a man so tall in my entire life. I needed to stand on a table just to reach the throne! It was truly incredible."

"Are you all finished?" The waitress asked politely.

"Yes, indeed! My young friend here will cover the bill."

"What?!"

"You are my noble master, are you not? Surely you would not leave the bill with the lady." Waver grumbled a little but complied. Isabelle moved to pay only to stop when he waved his hand.

"It's alright, I've got it," he mumbled, his cheeks slightly red. "No girl has ever spent this much time talking to me. So, thanks."

Isabelle beamed a smile at him, stating, "They don't know what they're missing." Waver's blush intensified as she giggled a bit, her mood greatly improved since being trapped under ice and nearly dying several hours ago.

"Alright miss, now the only thing left to do is get you home," Iskandar declared causing Isabelle to choke on her coffee.

"Wha- What? I can't lead you to my family's hideout," she exclaimed with a stutter.

"Unfortunately, you have little choice in the matter. The man who attacked you is still skulking about out there. I can feel his presence and I rather doubt Waver will permit me to fight him head on in public. If you walk home alone you will most certainly die and this I cannot allow."

"Can't you just take me most of the way there?"

"The assailant will surely follow us. I cannot in good faith leave you until you are attended by your servant." Isabelle slumped backwards into the booth. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place again it seemed. She could die and in doing so lead Saber to the hide out, or live and expose their hide out to Rider. She thought briefly about calling Sola-Ui and having Diarmuid come pick her up but that too could be disastrous. Perhaps Saber was already at the base, simply waiting for Lancer to leave. Isabelle sighed deeply with frustration.

"You know, there is one other way," Waver offered tentatively, drawing the attention of Isabelle and Iskandar simultaneously. "What if we took you most of the way home using a form of transportation that the assailant could never follow?"

"How?"

Isabelle's question was answered a few minutes later when Waver led them back into the deserted park. He looked around nervously, as if afraid someone would see them, before nodding at Iskandar. In one swift move, the heroic spirit unsheathed his blade and sliced a hole through the air, tearing open what appeared to be a portal. Thunder and lightning erupted around him before a chariot drawn by a pair of monstrous oxen appeared. The oxen were black as coal with ruby red eyes and razor-like horns; bronze armor protected the flanks and heads. Isabelle gaped and inched around the animals slowly, afraid to get too close. _So, this is the power of the rider class..._

"Don't be shy, girl!" Iskandar barked, shoving her directly in front of the beasts. She gulped as one of the oxen eyed her curiously. It moved to inspect her and its muzzle came so close Isabelle could feel her hair move with its heavy breathing.

"That one is Phaëthusa and," Rider paused to affectionately pat the other oxen, "This one is Lampetië." Isabelle jumped a bit when the beast nudged her shoulder. Feeling unsure what to do, she placed her hand on Phaëthusa's muzzle and lightly scratched under the armor. The animal seemed to approve and quickly thrust its head forward, forcing Isabelle's hand further beneath the bronze plate.

"Ah, she likes you," Iskandar said sounding satisfied.

"Ok, you've made introductions. Now can we please go before someone sees you?!" Waver asked with a hiss, looking quite uncomfortable. He was already standing in the chariot.

"Certainly, let us be off!" Rider stated before suddenly scooping her up. Isabelle let out a squeak of surprise but did not protest as he set her near the head of the chariot with Waver. He climbed into the carriage behind them and swiftly took the reins. "Let's see you follow us now, villain!" He challenged with a boisterous roar before the chariot took to the air. Isabelle forced down a shriek and instead clung to the front of the carriage with white knuckles.

"Won't someone see us?" She yelled over the rushing wind.

"No!" Waver shouted back. "I placed a barrier around the chariot. Once we are in the air, we are effectively invisible."

"Impressive!"

"Thank you!"

"Where too, girl?" Iskandar asked, looking absolutely jovial as they continued to gain altitude.

"Over there, behind that mountain." The heroic spirit nodded and promptly directed the oxen toward the area where she was pointing. "Can you set down behind that big old barn?" _That way Lancer won't see you…_

The landing was much softer than Isabelle anticipated as the chariot rolled to a stop behind the abandoned farm house. The oxen snorted a bit and kicked up dirt, clearly unhappy about being back on the ground so soon. She gave them both a thorough pat before turning back to Iskandar and Waver.

"Thanks again for all your help. I really don't know how I can ever repay you."

"Your pleasant company was reward enough, my dear!" Rider replied before unexpectedly locking her in a bear hug. He returned her promptly to the ground, saying, "I hope we will see you again soon."

"Preferably under non-violent circumstances," Waver muttered from his place inside the carriage.

"Yes, I hope that too," she agreed, shooting the boy a grateful smile. "I will do everything in my power to make sure our servant does not-" Isabelle stopped suddenly when blinding pain erupted across her body. Her vision went white and a strangled scream burst from her lungs as she fell to the ground, her right hand clutched tightly against her chest. Bolts of electric pain shot up her arm like lightning, scorching the nerve endings until they felt raw. And then it was gone. The pain left as swiftly as it came, and Isabelle awoke to find herself seated in Rider's lap with a very concerned Waver peering down at her.

"What happened?" She asked, feeling dazed as Iskandar shifted her in his grip.

"Isabelle, look at your hand," Waver instructed apprehensively. She stared at him strangely before glancing down. Her heart stopped at the sight. There, carved elegantly into the flesh of her right hand, was a single command seal. Isabelle blinked harshly several times and flexed her hand. Still nothing changed. "You didn't have that before, did you?" Isabelle shook her head mutely, feeling numb from head to toe. _How could this happen? Why did this happen?_ She jumped suddenly and sprang away from Rider with fear etched into her eyes. The command seal changed everything. Perhaps now he really would try to kill her or interrogate her for information. Or maybe he would-

"Woah, woah!" Iskandar interjected loudly, "Whatever you're thinking, stop it right now. This changes nothing. I promised to get you home safely and get you home safely I did. I have no idea where that command seal came from and, judging by your reaction, you haven't the foggiest idea either, but our pact remains the same. I will not harm you, Isabelle. Honor would never allow me to do so."

"And I wouldn't let him," Waver piped up, his voice surprisingly firm. "Between all the twisted, arrogant, evil masters I've come across you're the first one to show even a shred of human decency. Hell, you almost died today trying to save the life of someone you loved. Iskandar was right. Any servant would be lucky to partner with you, and that goes for masters as well!" A knowing, almost proud smile unfurled across Rider's face at his meaning.

"Miss Isabelle, I don't know where that command seal came from or to which servant you are sworn but Rider and I would be proud to ally with you."

"I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to decide now," Rider spoke with a grin. "Discover the meaning behind your command seal first. We can discuss partnership further at our next meeting. Stay safe until then!" Isabelle watched the pair take to the sky before vanishing from site.

"What is happening to me?" Her mind whirled from the day's events and her body shook from exhaustion. Waver took extra care to make certain all the necessary herbs were inside Isabelle's bag before leaving, an act she greatly appreciated. She only wished Iskandar could have dropped her off closer to the hide out. The trek up the backside of the mountain was going to take at least an hour and she was already late. Lancer was probably worried sick and who knows what kind of shape Kayneth was in. Her stomach lurched at the thought. _And now I have this thing etched into my hand. Why? Where the fuck did it come from?!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Lancer paced across the roof very impatiently with Gae Dearg and Gae Buidhe clutched tightly in his hands. It was late in the afternoon and Isabelle still had not returned. Something went wrong, he was certain of it. It occurred twice now where he felt a strong surge of fear and both times nearly sent him racing into the city to find her. Lancer's instincts screamed at him to search for her but doing so would require disobeying a direct order, something his honor could never allow. It was a nerve-racking dilemma. He felt helpless and frustrated, and was verging on the edge of panic when her red jacket suddenly appeared in the trees on the backside of the warehouse. Relief immediately washed over him. He watched her stumble a bit and wasted no time appearing at her side.

"Isabelle?"

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," she declared with an exhausted sigh before leaning forward to effectively collapse against him. Lancer supported her weight easily.

"What happened? Are you alright?" He asked quickly, quite alarmed. She nodded mutely against his chest and clutched the paper bag tightly. She intentionally hid the command seal. _What a fucked up day. But I got everything I needed._ Just being in Diarmuid's presence drained most of the tension from her body and Isabelle felt ready for a long nap.

"Lancer," she requested wearily, "Will you carry me the rest of the way?" This made him really concerned.

"Isabelle, what happened? You look completely exhausted and- Why are you bleeding?" He asked with a start, his hand moving to trace over her left thigh. Her jeans were torn and stained with blood where the bullet struck.

"It's already healed," she reassured him tiredly. "I'm not hurt, I promise."

"But someone tried to hurt you." It was more of a statement than a question. "I knew something like this would happen. I should have accompanied you. I should have been there to protect you," Lancer asserted with a frustrated sigh before gently lifting her off the ground. His jaw was clenched and Isabelle could feel the tension in his body when he moved back towards the hide out. He looked very upset.

"I'm happy you're here," she murmured softly before nestling against to his body and closing her eyes.

"I'm happy you are safe," he replied quietly, her words quelling some of the turmoil inside. He hesitated at first but eventually lowered his head to place a soft kiss in her hair, feeling surprised when she let out a contented sigh. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Where do I begin…" she muttered with her eyes still closed. "I got into a fight with Saber's master."

"You what?!"

"He ambushed me on my way home." Diarmuid opened his mouth to demand more details but stopped short upon hearing Sola-Ui's voice drift across the compound.

"Lancer, please show yourself!" She insisted, clearly searching for him. He heard Isabelle grumble in annoyance and couldn't help but share the sentiment.

"You'd better go see what she wants," Isabelle finally mumbled before squirming out of his grasp. "I'll be fine. We can talk about it later."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I need to go check on my dad anyway." Lancer nodded his understanding and watched as she disappeared inside the warehouse. He sighed deeply with frustration before straightening up and rounding the corner.

"Lady Sola-Ui," he called, "How fares Master Kayneth?"

"Not well, I'm afraid." Her voice was grave but Lancer couldn't help but notice how her eyes did not seem to reflect sadness. "I've managed to keep him stabilized but that's about it. His magic circuits were too heavily damaged. Perhaps Isabelle can do more once she returns."

"Miss Isabelle returned only a few moments ago. I escorted her into the warehouse." Sola-Ui grew silent for a moment.

"Well, thank goodness she is alright. I was beginning to worry something terrible had happened."

"I am relieved she is safe," Diarmuid stated, missing the brief look of displeasure that flickered across Sola-Ui's features. "I wish my master was fairing so well."

"This isn't your fault, Lancer," she insisted. "Kayneth brought it upon himself. All it means is that the grail war was too much for him to handle."

"It's not that, I just…"

"Diarmuid, don't you see? He isn't worthy of being your master!" Lancer bristled defensively at her words but remained silent, keeping his expressions closely guarded. However, he couldn't help but widen his eyes in disbelief when she said, "Kayneth has abandoned the battle. Giving his rights as your master to me." He did not want to accept it but the proof was undeniable. One of Kayneth's command seals now decorated Sola-Ui's right hand. He wondered briefly if Kayneth still retained the other seal since a total of two were remaining. Either way, it changed nothing.

"Lady Sola-Ui," he stated gently and yet firmly, "As a knight, my loyalty is eternally pledged to Master Kayneth. Therefore, I am sorry but I cannot consent."

"You what?" She gasped in disbelief, looking betrayed. "As a servant, do you not manifest physically using my mana? And now I have Kayneth's consent as well as the command seals."

"Before I am a servant, I am first and foremost a knight. And a knight can only serve but one lord."

"Am I so unworthy of being your master?!" Her voice was shrill.

"I have already told you that is not the issue-" Lancer tried to explain, only to get cut off.

"Look me in the eye when you speak to me!" This conversation was nothing like the late night talks he shared with Isabelle. Where she was kind and understanding, Sola-Ui could be extremely volatile and demanding. _And her eyes…_ Lancer's thoughts trailed off as he observed the woman standing before him. Tears were starting to pool and she stared at him with desperation. _Those are the same eyes Grainne had._

"Lancer, fight beside me. Please, you must protect me," Sola-Ui pleaded, "Lend me your support. Win the Holy Grail with me!"

"I cannot," he stated before turning to walk away. "If master Kayneth has given up, then I no longer have any interest in the Grail.

"We require a miracle to heal him. He has no chance otherwise!" Sola-Ui shouted causing him to stop in his tracks. "If you're truly feeling responsible for this, if you desire to give him back his life and his dignity, then you must win the Holy Grail." Lancer exhaled slowly with his back still facing her. He did not like where this conversation was going. Sola-Ui was right, of course. The Grail could easily heal his master's injuries but at what cost? Clearly the woman desired him but could she put that aside for the sake of their goal? If he agreed to this, Lancer would have to walk on the edge of a knife, teetering between victory and self-assured destruction.

"Lady Sola-Ui," he started, his voice deadly serious, "Do you speak as Master Kayneth's wife and seek the Holy Grail only on his behalf?"

"Y-Yes! Of course!"

"That is your only desire? You'll swear to it?"

"Yes, I swear," she affirmed, her eyes alight with happiness. "As the wife of Lord Kayneth El-Melloi, I shall bring my husband the Grail." Diarmuid eyed her cautiously but nevertheless nodded his consent. This arrangement made him uneasy, and as Sola-Ui started to chatter about battle strategies and how they should move forward only one thought consumed his mind: _Why couldn't it have been you, Isabelle?_

 _xxxxxxxxxx_

Isabelle tugged on a pair of medical gloves with the excuse of not wanting to sully the potion with contaminants on her hands. It was a truthful response but not her primary reason for wearing them. She needed to hide the command seal, at least until figuring out why it appeared in the first place. And Kayneth wasn't exactly being forthcoming.

"Dad, I'm not blind you know," she grumbled while mixing several ingredients in a bowl. "I can see that your command seals are gone."

"Perhaps I used them all." Isabelle scoffed at this.

"Then why is Lancer still here? Without command seals, Lancer would have no access to Sola-Ui's mana and would disappear."

"Been doing some reading on the Grail War, I see."

"Are you seriously trying to change the subject right now?"

Kayneth sighed deeply before finally stating, "I gave them to Sola-Ui." Isabelle felt her hand that was stirring instantly freeze. She paled a little. _And here I thought this day couldn't_ _ **possibly**_ _get any worse._

"Dad," she started seriously, putting the bowl down, "Why would you do that?" He remained silent for several minutes.

"Well, the truth is…" he trailed off, as if trying to think of an answer, before stating firmly, "Look, Isabelle, my body is destroyed and without the use of magic we have no chance of winning. We need the Grail to restore my magic circuits and therefore Lancer needed a new master. Earlier today, Sola-Ui and I completed the ritual that would allow transfer of the command seals."

"Then why didn't you just tell me that instead of beating around the bush?"

"There were… complications… with the ritual." Isabelle raised her eyebrows at this.

"What sort of complications?"

"Well, somehow we lost one of the command seals."

"You lost it?" Isabelle repeated incredulously, causing him to nod.

"Yes, and I haven't the faintest idea how. We phrased the incantations in such a way that only someone tied directly to Lancer via the summoning ritual could have received them. Sola-Ui and I are the only ones who fit that criteria so the exchange should have been flawless. I just don't understand!" Kayneth yelled with frustration before crossing his arms and scowling at the ceiling. Isabelle gulped and hastily returned to her work. _Shit! Now I have the missing command seal?!_

"This is a complete disaster," Kayneth continued angrily. "I have a worthless servant who allows me to be ruthlessly attacked, I lose my ability to use magic, and then a command seal vanishes into thin air! I don't see how it can get any worse!"

"This wasn't Lancer's fault and you know it!" Isabelle asserted, suddenly quite angry. "The only reason you are still breathing is because of him. Who do you think carried you off the battlefield and brought you straight to my door?"

"You're taking his side?!" Kayneth shouted in disbelief.

"There are no sides! There's only fact. And what really happened was you stubbornly went off on your own to prove some stupid point and almost ended up dead because of it! I met Saber's master, dad, and he is definitely not someone you should have taken lightly! The man is a fucking monster!" Kayneth grew very pale at the mention of Kiritsugu.

"He went after you?" He asked with horror.

"Yes, he did," Isabelle responded coldly while shoving a bowel into his hands. "Drink this. It tastes like shit but will make you feel better."

"Wait, where are you going?"

"To bed. I'm too tired to argue with you anymore." And with that, Isabelle stomped off down the hall. She wanted to kick something or perhaps break a lamp. Honestly, she felt like a child getting so worked up but she supposed it couldn't be helped. Her father seriously needed a reality check. _And I'm not even going to tell him about the command seal. It would cause too many fucking headaches._

 _xxxxxxxxxx_

After enduring what felt like hours of what Lancer would consider pointless strategic planning he was finally free of Sola-Ui. It wasn't that she lacked enthusiasm but the woman honestly had no grasp of military tactics. Her ideas were too simplistic. They were juvenile and predictable, and likely to get either one or both of them killed. He politely suggested alternative options of course but it was frustrating all the same.

Finding himself at the infirmary door, Lancer quietly entered. The room was dark and Kayneth appeared to be sleeping peacefully which was a relief. He wandered closer to the bedside feeling only grief as he gazed down at his master's crippled form. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. This was his chance to serve honorably and right the wrongs of the past. Instead, history was on the verge of repeating itself. Fate was indeed cruel. Lancer's shoulders felt heavy with despair as he considered the daunting task he now faced. Even if the Grail was obtained, Sola-Ui would surely pursue him and in doing so destroy the bond he attempted to forge with Kayneth. There would be no winners in this fight; the battle would leave only death and destruction in its wake.

Lancer's thoughts were interrupted when something shiny caught his eye. It was tucked slightly under the blanket. Stepping around the bed, he reached for it and was surprised to discover a small steel bowl. It was empty but he could see a green ring around the edges. He inspected it carefully and then turned to glance around the room, quickly spotting Isabelle's brown paper bag in the corner. Lancer set the bowl down next to it and allowed a faint smile to grace his features, feeling some of the weight on his shoulders dissipate.

To him, Isabelle stood as a beacon of light amidst all the heartache and bloodshed. When the world seemed harsh and cruel, she was soft and gentle. When he was hurting, she was there to sooth it away. His body craved her tender touch; it yearned to feel the softness of her skin and the warmth of her magic as it delved deep into the recesses of his tortured soul. He wanted to feel her calming presence sweep over him like a summer rain, washing away his past sins and offering redemption.

 ** _I love her_** **.**

Diarmuid felt his body still and his eyes widen at the realization. There was no mistaking it. He was in too deep and there was no turning back. He loved Isabelle. _And I want her to love me._ Lancer tried to convince himself it would never work, that Kayneth would never approve and that Isabelle would never go along with it. _But she was so receptive in the dream…_ His body shuddered remembering the flood of sensations and his mind briefly entertained the idea that perhaps they had done more than just kiss. Lancer sucked in a breath and promptly left the infirmary, too ashamed of his thoughts to remain in Kayneth's presence. _I need to talk with Isabelle._

His mind made up, Lancer entered the living quarters and walked the short distance to Isabelle's room. The door was closed causing him to hesitate a bit. He stood with his hand on the metal knob for several minutes while listening for any kind of movement. Hearing nothing, he slowly cracked open the door. Scant traces of moonlight filtered through the window allowing him to just barely make out the silhouette of Isabelle's body. She was curled up on the bed much like a cat, not even bothering to climb under the covers or kick off her shoes. Lancer hovered uncertainly in the doorway before finally crossing the threshold and stepping inside. The door shut behind him with a quiet click.

Finally alone, he gave in to temptation a bit and allowed himself to admire Isabelle's features for a moment. The moonlight glistened off her golden hair making it appear almost white against the auburn sheets. His eyes roamed over her slender neck and fair cheeks, spending perhaps a little too much time on her lips before moving to sweep across her body. Lancer frowned upon noticing the crusted blood still present on her jeans. A hole was torn from front to back. His fingers unconsciously traced over the area, as if to reassure himself the injury was truly healed. He retracted his hand immediately, however, when Isabelle shifted. He apprehensively watched as her eyes fluttered open. Vibrant and blue, they reminded him of the ocean.

"Lancer?" She questioned tiredly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright, I wanted to see you. Come sit by me."

"Most people sleep under the covers, you know."

"Too much work," Isabelle mumbled, her eyes drifting closed again. She was vaguely aware of him tugging at her shoes before they dropped to the floor with a clunk.

"Come here," Diarmuid instructed, his voice quiet as he carefully lifted her up and tucked her beneath the blankets. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed but stopped when she rolled over to make a place for him beside her. An amused smirk tugged at his lips when she kicked off all the blankets except one.

"I take it this is an order, not a suggestion," Lancer teased, his smirk only widening when she muttered something about how it was a free country. He shook his head at her antics but slipped into bed all the same. _This is a bad idea._ The thought seemed far away when Isabelle immediately curled against him, nestling close.

"God, I missed you," she breathed with a relieved sigh before stating, "We need to talk about what happened today." Lancer's mind whirled as Isabelle recounted the day's events. He swore the girl was a trouble magnet. Not only did she get attacked by Saber's master (which was horrifying enough) but to be _rescued_ by Rider? It was by far the least likely chain of events imaginable. _And then they went out to lunch?!_

"Yep, and Waver even paid for it."

"So how did you get home without being followed?"

"Rider dropped me off in his chariot." Lancer balked at her words, not believing his ears.

"Not possible, I would have seen him."

"We were kind of invisible..." Isabelle trailed off, sensing his disbelief. She took a breath before explaining, "Waver has an invisibility barrier around the chariot when it's airborne. It's visible on the ground but I had Rider drop me off on the backside of the mountain behind a farmhouse. I didn't want to risk you two getting in a fight."

"That's why you approached from the back of the warehouse and not from the road?"

"Yes. But don't worry! I was careful not to reveal our hide out and Rider has no idea which servant we have a pact with." Lancer was silent for a long moment as he tried to process all the information. He was extremely grateful she had returned safely but was also rather horrified by the turn of events. Isabelle had willingly stepped into Rider's chariot and allowed an enemy servant to escort her home. It was alarming to say the least. The decision was downright dangerous. _However, the alternative would have been far worse._ When choosing between the King of Conquerors and Saber's master, even Lancer had to admit Rider was the safer choice. Despite his intimidating height and prowess as a warrior, Alexander conducted himself in an honorable fashion. _And Waver is no threat at all._

Diarmuid sighed deeply before stating, "You made some very rash decisions today."

"I went with the best options available to me at the time." He nodded his head in agreement.

"It sounds that way and by some miracle you made it back here. You must be blessed with luck."

"I don't know about that…" Isabelle trailed off uncertainly, feeling him glance down at her. She bit her lower lip and nervously said, "One other thing happened." Silently, Isabelle pulled her right hand out from under the covers and let it rest on Lancer's chest, feeling him instantly freeze. Even in the dimness of the room, Diarmuid could see it; the crimson command seal. It flickered like smoldering embers, casting an almost wicked glow out into the darkness. Lancer felt his voice catch in his throat as he moved to trace its outline with his fingertips. A small jolt shot through his body at the contact.

"Sola-Ui said they were missing a command seal," he breathed, still not believing his eyes. "Is this mine?"

"Yes, this command seal links me to you."

"Then that means-" Lancer abruptly sat up, his eyes wide and alight with an emotion Isabelle did not recognize as he stated, "You are my master." The words rolled off his tongue with ease and a sense of peace washed over him, as if it were always meant to be this way.

"Sola-Ui has a command seal too, you know."

"I am aware," he responded automatically, not really listening as he continued to stare at the elegant marking with wonder. His body felt light, like a great weight had been lifted. "How did you get this?"

"I'm not really sure. When Kayneth performed the ritual to transfer the seals, he worded the incantation to include only those tied to you magically. Therefore, I can only assume some of my mana has been used to keep you materialized. You and I must have been connected during the summoning."

"Or even before that…" he trailed off thoughtfully, remembering the soft call of Isabelle's voice across the void.

"What?"

"Nothing. We must tell Lady Sola-Ui and Master Kayneth at once! This changes our entire battle strategy-"

"No!" Isabelle immediately interjected, surprising him. "They can't know about this." He immediately tried to disagree but stopped when she said, "Lancer, I need you to trust me. If Kayneth and Sola-Ui are under the impression that only one command seal exists they will be much more prudent with their decisions. It will only be used as a last resort, not as a tool to force you into doing something you don't want to do." _Like join forces with Berserker against Saber._

"Sola-Ui is affected by your charm spell," Isabelle suddenly stated, getting directly to the point. "She has one command seal that can force you to do anything she wishes." Lancer inhaled sharply as an unpleasant chill shot up his spine. He never even considered that possibility. "This," Isabelle emphasized her point by holding up her right hand, "is a tool only meant for emergencies. It is NOT a collar or a brand. You are not a slave, you are a heroic spirit and I would see you treated as such."

"Milady…"

"Isabelle," she reminded, slightly irritated. He gazed at her for a long moment and then his shoulders started to shake. Lancer tried but failed miserably to stifle the laughter that suddenly bubbled to the surface. Isabelle stared at him completely bewildered before finding herself crushed against his chest in a tight embrace as he finally broke down. The sound was deep and jubilant, sending her heart pounding wildly.

"What is so funny?" She demanded haughtily, trying to squirm away as a dark blush quickly colored her cheeks.

"You-" he paused to catch his breath, "You spend the day getting chased, shot, attacked, and effectively kidnapped by an enemy servant and after all that your only concern is for my wellbeing."

"And you find that funny why?" She enquired with a huff, still attempting to wriggle out of his hold.

"Come hell or high water, you will stop at nothing to protect me," he replied in amusement, brushing some strands of hair away from her face. "I should kiss you."

Isabelle immediately stopped moving as her gaze flew up to meet his. Diarmuid's golden eyes were alight with some unknown emotion and a playful air danced around him. She felt entranced as his fingers gently caressed her cheek, her breath hitching when his thumb ghosted across her lips. With his free arm, Lancer reached for her command seal and slowly, without breaking eye contact, guided Isabelle's hand to trail gently across his neck and jaw before coming to rest on his upper chest. His heart pounded under her fingertips. He searched her eyes intently, as if seeking an answer to some elusive mystery, before carefully lowering her backwards until she was pressed against the mattress. His gazed flitted down to her lips for a moment and Isabelle could have sworn she forgot how to breathe. His presence was overwhelming. Everything about him from the way he gently caressed her skin to the spice of his manly scent had her eyes fluttering closed and her heart thudding wildly. Her body groaned beneath him, begging to pick up where they'd left off in the dream.

"Isabelle," Diarmuid breathed against her lips, causing her to inhale sharply, "Would you like me to kiss you?" He was so close. She could feel the heat from his skin and the stress in his body, and all she wanted to do was reach deep inside and sooth all the tension away. _But that look in his eyes, and this feeling in my chest…_

"We can't do this, Diarmuid." Her voice was no more than a whisper but it caused Lancer to immediately halt his actions. Time seemed to freeze as Isabelle stared up at him, the heavy weight of guilt bearing down on her when hurt and disappointment flickered across his features. He was quick to hide it but this did nothing to ease the sudden pain in her chest. He hovered over her for a brief moment before quietly sitting up and moving away, settling himself on the edge of the bed with his back turned. _She doesn't love me. She rejected me._ The thought echoed around inside his mind like a forlorn cry _._

"I'm sorry, Master. That was disrespectful," he stated solemnly, "It was a mistake, please accept my humblest apologies."

"Please don't call me that," Isabelle requested, sounding rather miserable as she sat up. "And it wasn't a mistake."

"Clearly you did not desire the contact, therefore it was a mistake."

"Diarmuid, look at me." He reluctantly turned his head and was shocked when her lips suddenly ghosted across his in a chaste kiss. The contact was so brief his mind barely had time to register it. He immediately moved to return the gesture, feeling surprised and a little frustrated when she tilted her head causing his lips to land on her cheek. He fixed her with a confused and mildly irritated look.

"The contact was not unwanted," Isabelle confessed.

"Then why?" Diarmuid pressed insistently as he moved to cradle her face in his hands. "You do not love me? You do not desire me in this way?"

"No, I- Look, this has nothing to do with my feelings toward you. The reason we can't do this is because we're in the middle of a war."

"But you do have feelings for me?"

"It doesn't matter," she suddenly snapped, catching him off guard. Her hands balled tightly into fists and her body shook with emotion as she stated, "I can't let you become distracted. I need your mind and body to remain in the fight. I couldn't bare it if something happened to you."

"Isabelle…"

"I won't watch you die. I can't," Isabelle asserted, her voice trembling but resolute as she locked eyes with him. "Please, Diarmuid, stay focused on the battle. That is what I need you to do." Lancer felt like a knife had slipped between his ribs. His chest ached terribly and his body yearned to press her against the mattress and simply take what he wanted. Had she been any other woman the outcome would have been different. She would have surrendered herself easily and basked in the effects of his charm spell as he pleased her. _But it wouldn't be real. She wouldn't have the freedom to choose. She wouldn't truly be mine._

Lancer allowed a weary sigh to pass by his lips before conceding, "If that is what you wish."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The last several days had been torture for Diarmuid. His situation was no longer simple. Kayneth remained in the infirmary for the time being and Sola-Ui was taking every opportunity to get Lancer alone. She insisted he remain by her side at all times. She was even so bold as to suggest that he preside over her when sleeping and bathing, a notion he quickly (but politely) refused due its improper nature. Sola-Ui grew upset and argued quite strenuously that an exception could be made prompting Lancer to spend the better part of an entire day convincing her otherwise. Frankly, it was a waste of time. And then _that_ happened. On the same day, in a jealous fit of rage, Sola-Ui forbid him from interacting with Isabelle due to the fact that she was _none of his concern._ It was unmistakably a direct order and Lancer had to bite his tongue to avoid spilling the secret about the missing command seal.

Emotional feelings aside, Isabelle was a far better choice when it came to selecting masters. She was incredibly clever, intelligent, and loyal (attributes Sola-Ui sorely lacked) and could remain calm under pressure. She was also extremely logical when it came to difficult decisions. _Except with this decision._ Lancer sighed deeply in frustration, trying to quell some of the anger smoldering inside him. Isabelle knew exactly what occurred when he suddenly started to avoid her. She guessed it almost immediately. However, rather than exposing her command seal she insisted he continue to serve Sola-Ui as if nothing was wrong. The situation was incredibly frustrating. It had been several days now since he heard the softness of her voice or felt the warmth of her magic sweeping across his body. He was accustomed to her touch and its absence was driving him insane, especially in light of his growing attraction and desire. Lancer was whole-heartedly in love with Isabelle. He wanted her in every sense of the word and yet she remained completely out of his grasp. It was maddening. Feverish illusions plagued his waking thoughts, distracting him to such a degree that it bordered on dangerous. _And that is exactly what Isabelle wanted me to avoid. She wants me to stay focus. She wants me to set my feelings aside._ _ **But I can't.**_

His lack of discipline was very disturbing and Diarmuid was growing concerned that he may actually lose control. His restraint was slipping more with every passing day; soon it would be hanging on by only a thread. _And Isabelle's magic might be just enough to push me over the edge._ Lancer felt a chill sweep up his spine at the thought. He promised himself he would not touch her, at least not intimately, without her explicitly asking him to. However, the nature of her energy was a major problem. He was starting to notice a troubling pattern with their healing sessions: the more mana Isabelle used, the more euphoric the effects. Heavy amounts of energy crumbled his defenses and left him floating in a pleasant, almost dream-like state. Normally this wouldn't be a problem (he actually rather enjoyed it) but with his current situation Lancer feared he may do something inappropriate, something Isabelle would not find acceptable.

Diarmuid sighed deeply as he paced back and forth across the warehouse roof. His dual spears were clutched tightly in hand. The night air was surprisingly humid and thick clouds obscured the moon, leaving the forest and much of the compound shrouded in darkness. He stilled when a gust of wind rattled the windows. It was eerily quiet. Normally he could hear the faint crackle of leaves from a scurrying mouse or perhaps the lonely hoot of an owl. _Something is wrong-_ Lancer inhaled sharply and lurched to the side as a set of knives whizzed dangerously past his head. He deflected a second set with Gae Dearg.

"How did you find this place?" He demanded, his eyes scanning the tree line for any sign of movement.

"We have our ways," whispered a voice from behind. Lancer spun around and swiftly impaled assassin only to watch him dissipate in a cloud of noxious smoke. He covered his mouth and nose immediately before leaping backwards, attempting to escape the poison fumes. The gas burned his eyes causing his vision to blur. Relying on hearing, Diarmuid evaded the strike of another assassin and sliced at his feet, promptly kicking him off the edge once his balance was compromised.

"This warehouse is huge," came a distinctly feminine voice. "I wonder which room contains your master." Lancer blinked harshly and rubbed his eyes, watching as a woman with long purple hair and a skull mask hazily came into view. She was leaning casually against the exhaust vent. "I originally planned to murder everyone inside before facing you but your master set up quite the troublesome barrier. It is an alarm barrier that would automatically alert you and anyone within the building if I so much as took a step past its boundaries. I would hate for my prey to scatter while I am preoccupied. Therefore, I suppose I'll just kill you first."

xxxxxxxxxx

Isabelle awoke to the warmth of the sun and soft grass against her cheek. A delicate floral fragrance wafted through the air carrying with it the sounds of birds chirping and the soft buzz of a bee hive. She slowly sat up to inspect her surroundings. _This is a pasture_ , she realized, spotting a wooden fence off in the distance. Isabelle jumped when a burst of humid air struck the back of her neck, blowing her hair forward. Scrambling to turn around, she couldn't help but gape at the magnificent animal peering down at her. A stallion with eyes like midnight and a coat as white as snow stood in stark contrast to the verdant green grass of the meadow. His tail swished from side to side as he watched her intently. They seemed frozen in time for a moment, neither of them moving, until he nudged Isabelle with his snout and moved to lay next to her in the pasture. Tentatively, she reached out a hand and carefully stroked the creature's back, feeling relieved when it did not run away.

Isabelle sat like this in comfortable silence for several minutes before the horse started to shift impatiently. Needing no instruction, she promptly climbed onto its back and gripped the mane tightly as it rose from the ground and took off in a gallop. Mountain streams, lush forest, and farmland flashed across her vision before she arrived at the entrance to a large estate. A massive wooden door blocked the path inside. Isabelle dismounted and slowly approached, feeling drawn to the house by an almost magnetic pull. She needed to enter and yet was afraid of what she would find. As the urgency grew, Isabelle found herself placing both hands against the rough surface of the door and sinking across the threshold. She landed in a wide hallway. Guided by an invisible tug, she passed several rooms in pursuit of some unknown object before stopping at the foot of a winding wooden staircase. The rales were polished and animal carvings decorated each front post. Isabelle took in a slow, nervous breath before climbing upwards to reach the second floor. She veered left through an open door and emerged into what appeared to be a bedroom.

Sunlight poured through several open windows and a gentle breeze tousled Isabelle's hair as she advanced further inside. A large canopy bed draped in colorful satin rested in the center of the room accompanied by two dressers and multiple bookcases arranged neatly across the walls. Ashes and coals from a previous fire sat in a mound amidst charred logs in the fireplace. Isabelle jumped when movement caught the corner of her eye. The blankets were shifting and before long Grainne's ruffled brown hair emerged as she sat up and stretched. The former Irish princess rubbed sleep from her eyes, her white nightgown hanging lazily off one shoulder. Isabelle inhaled sharply and moved to retreat but found herself frozen in place. And then she heard it. _His voice._

"Morning, my love," Diarmuid called as he strode into the room with a spring to his step, his voice cheerful as he phased through her to reach Grainne. He was dressed in training gear. After propping his two spears against the dresser, he proceeded to swoop down and grace his wife with passionate kiss. Isabelle felt her stomach twist uncomfortably and wished she could avert her gaze. However, she remained firmly rooted in place as Diarmuid climbed right into bed and pulled Grainne close.

With an excited voice, he said, "My dear, the most amazing thing happened today! This morning, while I was in the field training with Oisin and several other knights, Lord Fionn approached me. He said he was arranging a private hunt for this afternoon and would be most honored if I were to accompany him. He's finally starting to trust me again, Grainne."

"That's wonderful news."

"Indeed! While it's true he welcomed us back as subjects some time ago, I feared our relationship to be permanently damaged. However, it seems I have been offered a second chance and I would see my honor and Lord Fionn's faith in me restored. I wish for him to look upon my house with pride."

"I'm sure he will, love," Grainne reassured, nestling closer to him. "But who in your house besides you will he admire?"

"There will be others, of course! Once they become of age, my sons shall be welcomed as brave and loyal knights of Fianna. Our bloodline will be strong and last throughout the ages, I am certain of it."

"Your sons will indeed be strong, however," Grainne paused to giggle a little, "You may want to exercise some patience in this area. Or have you forgotten that thus far the gods have not seen fit to bless us with a child?"

"They will come," Diarmuid assured her with an affectionate nuzzle. "When my honor is restored, I will be favored by the gods once again and they will bless us. Do not worry love, you will be a mother soon."

"I look forward to it. So, will you be returning to the field to finish training?" Grainne asked with a slightly mischievous voice as she eyed the warrior holding her.

"I should really be getting back…" Diarmuid's voice trailed off when she suddenly rolled on top of him, both straps of her white night dress slipping from her shoulders. "But I suppose taking a few extra minutes-" he paused to tangle his fingers in Grainne's auburn hair, "Wouldn't hurt anything."

The second she was free, Isabelle ripped her feet away from the floor and fled down the staircase, not stopping until she reached the entrance. She threw open the front door and bolted around the side of the house before subsequently collapsing in the shade of the nearest wall, her back pressed up against the stone. She drew her knees to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut while curling into a tight ball. A sob threatened to rip free from Isabelle's throat but she quickly silenced it. She took a couple deep breaths, trying desperately to control her emotions. This was a memory. Only a memory. There was no logical reason to be upset. _And yet here I am, curled into a ball on the verge of a mental breakdown._ It was pathetic really, how easily her resolve crumbled. She tried to remain strong. She tried to distract herself and maintain a steady state of denial when it came to her feelings regarding Lancer but it was all breaking apart. She did not love him. _I do NOT love him. I can't…_

"Isabelle, are you alright? Did something happen?" A flood of cold washed over her body at the familiar voice. She cringed apprehensively, her arms tightening around her knees, before she slowly raised her gaze to meet a very concerned set of golden orbs. Diarmuid peered down at her with worry clearly evident on his face. However, he was not the same. His training attire was replaced with the standard dark green outfit, brown boots, and left shoulder plate that she was accustomed to seeing. _Have I returned? Did I wake up?_ A quick glance around assured Isabelle she was indeed still trapped within the dream. Upon realizing this, she gulped nervously and turned her gaze back to Lancer, recoiling violently when he reached out a hand to touch her.

"You're not real," she asserted while backing away from him, her shoulder scraping against the coarse stone as she scooted along the wall. "This is a dream. It's only a dream," Isabelle repeated over and over, as if trying desperately to convince her mind and body that it was true. She needed distance. _I need to get away. I can't face him in here. Not in this place where my actions have no consequences._ Lancer watched her withdraw silently, his expression unreadable as she continued to back up, not stopping until she was trapped in a corner. He watched her tense before she leaped into a standing position, clearly planning to bolt. This he could not allow. Within seconds, Lancer had Isabelle caged against the wall with his hands on either side of her head and his body mere inches from her own. Her eyes went wide, like a frightened deer, before she slammed them closed and pressed her back forcefully into the wall, wanting nothing more than to sink into the stone and disappear.

"Isabelle," he breathed, causing her to shiver violently, "You can't run forever."

"Please, just go away."

"Tell me that you don't love me."

 _I can't._

She flinched, a slight whimper leaving her lips when his hands began to trail lightly over her exposed shoulders and neck. Isabelle kept her eyes tightly closed and focused on controlling her breathing. She remained frozen in place despite every nerve ending in her body screaming.

"I know you care for me. So why do you resist so fiercely?" Lancer asked, sounding confused as his hands stilled on her upper arms.

"Because I won't let this happen to you again," she replied shakily, her voice quiet and yet resolute. "I refuse to let history repeat itself. I will protect you from that tragic fate even if it means sacrificing myself to get there."

"Look at me," Lancer instructed, waiting for her cobalt blue eyes to flutter open before stating firmly, "You are not Grainne. You are not part of the cycle, you are the event that breaks it. You were my prayer, Isabelle. You are my redemption."

 _You are my wish._

His words were sincere and his eyes reflected such profound devotion that Isabelle nearly forgot how to breathe as her heart came crashing into the front of her chest. His confession scorched fervidly through her body, burning deep into her soul like searing embers set to flame. Isabelle could feel it smoldering within her heart; a terrifying blaze that threatened to consume them both. They were puppets of destiny it seemed. Merely pawns in fate's twisted game, and the path they were heading down could only end in tragedy. The Holy Grail remained as their only means of salvation.

Movement at the front door suddenly caught Isabelle's attention. Still caged within Lancer's hold, she glanced to the side and watched Diarmuid exit the estate accompanied closely by Grainne. It was now midday and as he mounted his horse- a white stallion with eyes like dark coal- an overwhelming sense of foreboding washed over her.

"Where are you going?" Isabelle asked tensely, dreading the answer she knew would come.

Lancer glanced over his shoulder to watch the procession for a moment before replying with, "To join Fionn in the woods outside his castle. He invited me to participate in a boar hunt this afternoon." Her eyes widened with horror and she immediately tried to dash towards him only to find that Lancer's hold had tightened.

"Let me go! I need to stop you!" She yelled frantically as she struggled against his vice-like grip.

"You can't stop me, Isabelle. You cannot save me from this fate."

"Lancer, let me go," her voice was pleading now. She watched as Diarmuid leaned down to grace Grainne with one last fleeting kiss before leading his horse in the direction of the castle. He disappeared from sight shortly after. Isabelle felt numb, as if all warmth had been swept away leaving only a hollow shell behind. Her body shook uncontrollably and she would have collapsed if not for Lancer's support.

"I should have gone with you. I promised I would protect you." Her voice was devastated, as if the world was crashing in around her.

"You can't protect me from the past, Isabelle," Lancer stated gently, adjusting his grip so he could envelop her in a comforting embrace. He tucked her head beneath his chin and softly stroked her hair, his voice taking on a hopeful note as he said, "But perhaps you can save me now." This immediately caught her attention.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Her voice held a panicked edge.

"I've been gravely injured and in my foolishness I have not sought out you or Sola-Ui. If something is not done soon, I may die."

"Wake me up right now! Send me back-" her demands were cut short when Lancer promptly kissed her, his lips insistent as he sealed them over hers. Isabelle felt like a fuse had been lit and her body immediately responded, a loud groan leaving her lips when he angled her head to deepen the kiss further. His absence over the last several days had been painful. She missed him terribly, craving the sound of his voice and the warmth of his body, longing for the comfort of his presence. The prospect of losing him forever was too horrible to imagine and her heart raged violently at the thought.

"Go and find me, Isabelle. _Find me_."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Isabelle woke with a gasp, heart racing and a thin sheet of sweat clinging to her body. Rain hammered against the windows and thunder shattered the air as she stumbled out of bed, throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank top before bolting out the door and racing down the hall. She could hear light snoring from Sola-Ui's room. Isabelle cracked the door open was disappointed to find that Lancer was nowhere to be seen. Turning heel, she dashed further into the safe house desperately searching for the heroic spirit. He was injured badly, she could feel it: the painful sting of his wounds, his heavy breathing, his chilled skin.

Skidding to a halt at the make-shift infirmary, Isabelle's distress only continued to grow. Lancer was not there either. She sucked in a shaky breath, struggling to remain calm. _With this command seal, I can feel that he is close so why can't I find him?_ Isabelle closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart. Fear ran cold through her blood as she tried desperately to reflect on places where Lancer spent most of his time. She grit her teeth in frustration and jumped when a crack of thunder split the air. A sudden horrifying thought had her stomach lurching with dread. _No, you're not really sitting out in this storm, are you?_

Isabelle's eyes widened with alarm and she moved urgently towards the nearest window, sliding it open and crawling outside. Her feet were balanced precariously along the windowpane as icy rain pelted her bare skin and wind whipped at her hair. Her fingers struggled to grasp the edge of the slippery roof and Isabelle prayed her grip would hold when she kicked off from the building. She wriggled her way onto the roof and moved to sprint across it but stopped when a large gust of wind threatened to tear her from the industrial building. Dropping to her knees, she crawled towards the exhaust vent where Diarmuid was normally perched. As Isabelle rounded the corner, the tip of his boot came into view.

"Lancer!" She shouted in alarm, standing once again to cover the rest of the distance with haste. His back was braced against the metal overhang with his hand curled tightly around his left side, crimson rain water seeping through his fingers. His eyes remained closed and Isabelle could see bleeding from his lips. She collided with him not so gently and gripped his shoulders, shaking him urgently. "Diarmuid, I need you to open your eyes for me!" Isabelle shouted, not bothering to hide the fear in her voice. She jumped when the heroic spirit suddenly stirred. Cloudy golden orbs slowly opened, looking confused at first and then alarmed.

"Isabelle, what are you doing up here? It's dangerous." He moved to sit up but immediately dropped back against the exhaust vent clutching his left side. Lancer hissed in pain and tried again only to be stopped by the weight of Isabelle's hands on his chest. She exerted quite a bit of pressure, keeping his back pressed against the metal overhang.

"Lancer, you're badly injured. That is no ordinary wound. You need to stop moving," she insisted forcefully but Diarmuid noticed a slight tremble in her voice. "What are you doing up here all alone in the middle of a storm? I could feel your pain and the gravity of your injuries. You scared me. Why didn't you come and find me?" Her hands shook against his chest as she gripped his leather armor tightly.

"Isabelle, I-" He wanted to tell her. To explain his desire to keep his distance from Sola-Ui. _And to keep my distance from you._ He was starting to lose control. Every time her gentle, calming energy delved into the recesses of his body he became more unhinged. At first it was controllable but now he felt feverish in her presence. He wanted to trace every curve of her body with his lips and lose himself in her soft whimpers and sighs. Lancer wanted to hear Isabelle pant and moan and _scream_ his name over and over as he pleased her, as he claimed her body and soul. He shuddered violently, trying unsuccessfully to get the images out of his head.

Diarmuid swallowed forcefully before opening his mouth to reassure her, "It's alright, Isabelle. I'm okay-"

"It's not okay!" She asserted fiercely, locking eyes with him as her hands applied even more pressure to keep him pressed against the metal vent. She fixed him with a look that sent his heart pounding wildly. "You could have died," she continued, voice cracking and tears mixing with the rain as she flattened her palms against his chest. "Please, Diarmuid. I don't want to lose you."

Lancer groaned loudly when heated energy surged into his body, searing across his skin and delving into his chest. His eyes widened in shock and then closed tightly as waves of pleasure swept up his spine. He gripped Isabelle's shoulders tightly, choking back another moan. _This energy is different._ Her delicate, soothing warmth had been replaced with scorching heat that blazed relentlessly through his body, igniting several emotions he was trying to suppress. The flood of mana was unreal. It overwhelmed his senses and Lancer could feel a familiar euphoria rapidly start to set in when feverish images swept to the forefront of his mind. _No, no! I will not lose control,_ Diarmuid thought, struggling to remain cognizant as his self-restraint rapidly disintegrated.

Lancer was so distracted that he scarcely noticed the soft pressure of her other hand as it drifted down to his abdomen. Isabelle carefully settled her palm over the injury before pressing much gentler energy inside, allowing her magic to seep into the wound and explore the injured tissue. It traced along the edges before diving to mingle with the more aggressive mana swirling underneath. Lancer sucked in a sharp breath, feeling lightheaded for a moment as the two energies fused, expelling the poison curse placed by Assassin. Dark magic sprayed out of his blood only to get swept away in a torrent of rain. His body immediately relaxed and as she moved to repair what was left of his injury Lancer couldn't stop an appreciative groan from leaving his lips. Isabelle felt her heart flutter erratically at the noise. She bit the inside of her lip and swallowed harshly, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand as her mind replayed the sound over and over again. Heat flooded her cheeks. _It's just windburn,_ she tried to convince herself before forcing her eyes back down to his abdomen.

Feeling the dizziness slowly subside, Diarmuid cracked his eyes open groggily, "Isabelle?"

"I've got you," came her reassuring reply, "It's going to be alright, I won't let anything happen to you." He blinked a few times, tensing when she finally came into focus. Isabelle was leaning over him with her chest heaving from exhaustion. Her tousled blonde hair dripped with rain water and golden locks spilled over her shoulders to rest on his chest; porcelain cheeks retaining a light pink hue from the wind's savage bite. She shivered a bit when a particularly large gust swept by and his gaze was immediately drawn to the white tank top and jean shorts she wore. Lancer felt his eyes widen a fraction as he peered up at her. Isabelle's clothes were completely soaked allowing him to see the outline of her navy colored bra and several other curves he'd been fantasizing about for the last couple months. He immediately averted his gaze, trying desperately to focus his attention anywhere else. He sucked in a deep breath, an action that did not go unnoticed by the woman hovering above him.

"Diarmuid, are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Isabelle asked worriedly, reaching for his cheek and gently guiding his eyes back to her own. His heart pounded violently at the look she fixed him with. It contained such deep affection and concern that he could have sworn he was dreaming. _And there is something else…_ Diarmuid felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion before he sat up and carefully brushed some droplets of rain away from her face. His thumb paused to trace along her jaw and he searched her eyes intently. Several emotions swam behind Isabelle's crystal orbs but only one came to the forefront as her gaze flitted down to his lips for a moment. Diarmuid recognized it immediately. Even cloaked in uncertainty and fear, it was unmistakable.

 _She loves me._

It was like a dam breaking inside him. Without warning, Lancer slid his fingers into her hair and swiftly captured her lips in a passionate kiss, a low groan reverberating deep in his chest as he swallowed her surprised gasp. Whatever he imagined, the sensation of her soft lips pressing shyly against his own was incomparable. It was exhilarating and filled his body with an intense heat. His hands were everywhere; tracing along her shoulders, waist, thighs- Lancer just couldn't get enough. Desire blazed through him like wildfire and he abruptly grabbed Isabelle's hips, tugging her onto his lap to urgently deepen the kiss. Her legs came to rest on either side of his waist before Diarmuid pulled her flush against his body. She moaned loudly, whimpering when his tongue suddenly invaded her mouth. His passion had Isabelle seeing stars and her brain struggled to process what was happening when his fingers slipped underneath her tank top, burning a trail up her ribcage. He stopped before reaching any place intimate and switched gears to knead gentle circles across her back. _I need to stop soon._ The thought sounded far away as Lancer moved to place butterfly kisses across her neck and collarbone, hearing her inhale sharply when he traced over her pulse with his tongue. Rain continued to batter against the metal overhang and they were both drenched but Lancer was too caught up in the moment to care.

"Diarmuid," Isabelle gasped when he came across a particularly sensitive spot. Without thinking, he tilted her head and began to shower the area with attention; licking, biting and sucking until her voice was a steady stream of pleasured moans and sighs. She clung to him desperately, fingernails digging into his back as he continued his relentless assault. His presence was overwhelming and the sensations he provided had her body trembling. Isabelle could feel herself becoming lost when Lancer rolled so she was trapped beneath him, her back pinned against the damp roof with his hips pressing between her thighs. Waves of pleasure swept across her body and without a second thought she brought her legs up to wrap around his waist, squeezing tightly.

"Isabelle," Lancer groaned, sounding surprised. "How far are you trying to go?" She did not answer and instead pulled him in for another kiss, this one more demanding as she raked her fingernails down his back and across his toned chest. She pushed against him, relishing in the feel of his powerful body pressed tightly against her own. The sensations were intoxicating. Isabelle yearned to feel more and she threw her head back blissfully when his mouth latched on to her neck once again. The temptation was so alluring, like her mind and body were in a sensual fog. Isabelle felt herself freeze instantly. _His curse mark. Something happened… to my runes…_ Her panicked realization came in bits and pieces as the heavy effects of the charm spell surged through her, threatening to sweep all rational thought aside when his hands slipped further beneath her tank top. She struggled against the magic but it was a losing battle. The desire she harbored for the Irish lancer made resistance against his curse quite futile; eventually she would break. _And then he will blame himself._ Isabelle felt her stomach lurch at the thought. _I need to find a way to tell him… I-I have to stop, but- this feeling…_

Fortunately, Diarmuid was not so caught up in the moment to miss the change in her responsiveness. He immediately (albeit reluctantly) paused in his activities to glance down at her and was alarmed at what he discovered. Isabelle's normally vibrant blue eyes had darkened, appearing almost glazed over as she stared up at him. _I know that look,_ Lancer thought with sickening dread before grabbing her left arm and pulling it into view. The constant stream of rain water was causing the runes to fade. Diarmuid felt his jaw clench and he lowered his gaze when an overwhelming sense of revulsion and shame washed over him. _How could I have been so reckless? I should have been more careful. I should have protected her-_

"Diarmuid, please," Isabelle pleaded, not even sure what she was asking for as her body trembled beneath him. _Please help me._ He snapped out of his thoughts instantly and without skipping a beat he sat up, bringing her with him.

"Shhhh," Lancer's voice was soothing as he tucked her head beneath his chin, "Just close your eyes and it will pass."

"Something happened to my runes…"

"I know," he replied miserably, cradling Isabelle's small frame in his arms. Wind whipped at his back and icy rain pelted his exposed skin but he didn't care. His mind was too far lost; buried in the pits of self-loathing. Lancer waited until her breathing was steady before lifting Isabelle into the air and heading towards a shattered skylight. He dropped down inside and promptly carried Isabelle to her room, setting her gently on the padded bench under the window. "Wait here for me and keep your eyes closed," he instructed softly. Isabelle heard the bedroom door open and some rustling down the hall before Lancer returned, draping something soft and fluffy across her shoulders. Identifying the object as a towel, she quickly wrapped it around her chilled body.

"What happened to the runes," Isabelle asked, finally starting to come around. "My head feels like I'm in a fog."

"The rain caused the markings to fade," he explained. He was silent for a long moment. "Did I hurt you?"

Isabelle did not answer right away as she tried to process exactly what he was asking. _I don't think so. I didn't exactly intend for any of that to happen but - ugh, my head…_ Lancer awaited her response with bated breath and when she remained silent a sickening feeling rose up from his stomach. Swallowing harshly, he moved away from her to the floor and kneeled, shutting his eyes tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Isabelle. I never should have done that. In my selfishness I disregarded your previously expressed sentiments and acted on my own desires, placing you in a very compromising position. I defied your orders and pressured you into doing things with me…" Diarmuid's voice trailed off as his jaw clenched. His knuckles were white against the carpet and his voice was twisted into a state of despondent wretchedness as he said, "You can't trust me. And you shouldn't forgive me because even now, despite the horrible things I've done, I cannot bring myself to regret them. I am not worthy of being your servant."

"Diarmuid," Isabelle stated firmly, getting his attention. "I won't lie, I'm very upset with you but it's not for the reason you think. And would you please stop kneeling? Even with my eyes closed I can tell you're on the floor. Stop wallowing and come sit by me again."

"You shouldn't trust me to be near you."

"Oh, good grief. Fine," she snapped before plopping herself on the floor and reaching blindly for his hand. Her fingers graced across his knuckles before Lancer rapidly pulled his arm away, moving out of reach. "Lancer, I swear to God if you keep this up I **will** open my eyes."

"I can't let you do that. I refuse to see that look on your face, I'll blindfold you if I must."

"Look? What look?" Isabelle demanded haughtily, feeling self-conscious.

"Your eyes glazed over from the charm spell's effects. I have seen it many times with Grainne, Lady Sola-Ui, and every other woman except you, Isabelle. Your eyes have never darkened, they are always vibrant and filled with life when I look into them. Until tonight."

"That is how you knew something was wrong?"

"Yes, I never want to see that look on your face again. I couldn't bear it if you were to become lost in my curse. Please, we must repair your runes."

"We will," she reassured him, "That is something you can help me with."

"How?"

"You see my desk over in the corner?"

"Yes."

"Guide me over to it and then pull up a chair," she instructed, rising from the floor when Lancer tentatively took her hand. He led Isabelle carefully across the room and pulled out the chair for her when she sat down, subsequently settling himself next to her. "Are you able to see the outlines of the runes? Or were they completely washed away?"

"The outlines are still visible."

"Good, please take that black permanent marker and start tracing them."

"Wouldn't it be better if you did this?" He asked uncertainly, "I could leave the room-"

"Nope, I'm not letting you escape yet."

"You shouldn't even want to be near me…"

"Diarmuid, listen to me," Isabelle's voice was patient as she lowered her head onto his shoulder, feeling him instantly tense. "You didn't hurt me. I was definitely surprised and perhaps a little overwhelmed but my runes were solidly intact when you initiated the contact. You didn't feel me pushing you away, right? I never asked you to stop."

"I took things too far."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. I was reckless and careless, and I bet you were scared of how far I was planning to go." _I wasn't, actually. Definitely, probably should've been but wasn't._

"But you did stop, Lancer. You were in fact very careful and very attentive to my- umm… my reactions." Isabelle could feel her cheeks burning when she said it. It was the truth. The man was so damn attentive and so focused on pleasing her that she about lost her mind when he had her pinned against the roof. She wanted to blame it all on the charm spell. However, when the tip of the black marker started tracing across her arm she knew there was more to it; just that subtle touch had her heart racing.

"Are you saying the contact was desired? You wanted to do those things with me?" Lancer sounded hopeful and doubtful all at the same time. Isabelle bit her lip and took in a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She really did not want to have this particular conversation.

"I honestly don't know," she admitted finally, "It's all very confusing." Diarmuid blinked a few times. _Well, that's better than an outright rejection I suppose. But is this what women are really like? Unbelievably indecisive? No wonder all the other knights complained so much._

"But you do care for me?"

"Yes, more deeply than I can put into words. Which is why I'm so upset with you. What were you thinking hiding that wound from me? That was a very serious injury, you could have died."

"I wanted to protect you," he confessed solemnly, "I tried so hard to keep my distance from you but it only seemed to make things worse. I missed you terribly, Isabelle. Every day that passed was torture and I found myself becoming more and more distracted. It got to a point where I feared I may lose control and do something inappropriate… Like I did tonight. Again, I sincerely apologize. I make no excuses for my behavior."

"The goal was for you to be less distracted," Isabelle sighed wearily, "But it seems my plan backfired and you ended up in a dangerous predicament. This arrangement isn't going to work. We need a new strategy." Lancer perked up at her words.

"You have an idea?"

"Several but I'm not quite sure which path is the correct choice. We need to see how things play out. In the meantime, I need you to continue following Sola-Ui-" he instantly let out an annoyed grumble. "However," Isabelle continued, "I also want you to find me each night and report on what's been happening. Kayneth and Sola-Ui can't know about my command seal just yet so try to be discreet. Can you do that?"

"With ease," he replied confidently, sounding much happier.

"Good, then at least we can get things back to normal. Being separated wasn't much fun for me either, you know. I had another one of those intense dreams tonight before I found you on the roof."

"You did?" He sounded alarmed. "What did you see?"

"The morning before you went off to die." Isabelle grew silent and, feeling the marker leave her skin for a moment, she promptly smacked him in the arm. The hit was pretty wimpy but it caused him to jump nonetheless.

"Why did you-"

"No dying!" She suddenly barked, catching him off guard. "Dying is not allowed, you got that? No dying in dreams and definitely no dying in reality. I forbid you from dying. Are we clear?"

Lancer chuckled loudly before replying with, "Yes, Ma'am."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Isabelle could feel her breath coming in sharp gasps as she sprinted down the walking path toward the Mion River. City lights flickered at the periphery of her vision and she could hear the loud roar of military jets overhead as they zoomed by. A crowd was gathered at the water's edge trying to see through the thick fog. This was a disaster. Caster's actions were unthinkable. The atrocities committed by both mage and servant alike weighed heavily on Isabelle's heart as she pushed through the throws of people heading towards the bridge. The torture and murder of hundreds of children- had she known... _My father knew._ _ **And did nothing.**_ _He never bothered with Caster until a bounty was placed on his head._ She shook her head harshly. Ruminating on the past was not going to help their current situation. Caster now threatened the exposure of the entire magical world.

The man (or monster, Isabelle wasn't entirely sure) had appeared suddenly at the river's mouth chanting dark incantations as magic poured out of his Grimoire. Demonic energy swept across the water clear to the shore before unleashing a monstrous creature in the depths. The beast towered into the air like a skyscraper, its tentacles shooting out of the water to grasp at the air. As she neared, Isabelle had to cover her nose when the foul odor of rotting flesh assaulted her senses.

 _Is this a Kraken?_

The Holy Grail overseer, Risei Kotomine, had contacted Kayneth late in the evening regarding a disturbance at the Mion River. Apparently, the church required his assistance in dispatching Caster and was willing to offer up a command seal in exchange. Kayneth jumped at the bounty of course, quickly dispatching Sola-Ui and Lancer before Isabelle even knew what was happening. She tried to wait calmly. Isabelle tried to be patient but the command seal made it impossible. Her right hand throbbed painfully with every passing second as Caster's power continued to grow, overtaking the power signature of her own servant. He was far too strong for Diarmuid to face alone.

"Where are you, Lancer?" Isabelle questioned aloud before biting the inside of her lip nervously. Fear sizzled at her insides but she refused to flee. Diarmuid was close, she could sense it. She surveyed the shoreline and felt her heart jump upon spotting a flash of red through the fog. Iskandar's scarlet mantel billowed brilliantly in the night air not fifty feet from her current position. After checking to make sure her command seal was concealed, Isabelle hastily climbed over the retaining wall and slid down the hill to meet him.

"Rider! Waver!" She called urgently, watching the duo turn their heads in surprise.

"Isabelle, what are you doing here? It's dangerous," Waver exclaimed in alarm as he scrambled out of the chariot to meet her. "Did you come here alone? Where is your heroic spirit?"

"We got separated," she explained quickly, taking a step closer to Iskandar's oxen when a gust of energy swept by. Glancing to the left, Isabelle stiffened upon noticing an armor-clad woman with blonde hair eyeing her warily. The air surrounding her right hand swirled unnaturally, as if she were gripping an invisible blade. _That must be Saber._

"You know this girl, King of Conquerors?" The woman asked.

"She is a dear friend and ally, King of Knights! Her presence should not trouble you." Artoria continued to watch her cautiously but resumed their previous conversation nonetheless.

"A truce you say?" She repeated uncertainly.

"Indeed, we won't be able to have any kind of meaningful fight unless we deal with that behemoth Caster created. I have been going around informing everyone and," he paused to wink mischievously in Isabelle's direction, "Lancer has agreed to come. He should be here any minute now." She let out a relieved sigh before sending an accusing look in Waver's direction. _They knew who I was paired with all along?!_

"Oh, don't give me that face," Waver said with an amused chuckle while Iskandar and Saber continued to speak in the background. "It really wasn't that hard to figure out. I mean come on."

"How long have you known?"

"I had my suspicions the moment we met but I couldn't be sure until tonight. You definitely surprised me though. You're WAY different from your father. No offense, but he is the biggest dick I have ever met in my entire life."

"No shit. Try living with him," Isabelle responded with a huff, lips curving into grin when Waver suddenly covered his mouth to stifle a fit of laughter. She rolled her eyes at his antics before turning back to Rider.

"Yes, I follow you," Iskandar stated, nodding his understanding in the direction of Saber's white-haired companion. "We need to settle this before that monster comes ashore and starts to feed. We cannot allow it to become self-sustaining. Problem is that Caster has encased himself deep inside those thick walls of flesh." The King of Conquerors paused uncertainly before saying, "To be honest, I'm not quite sure what to do."

"Drag him out." Isabelle felt her heart jump a mile at Lancer's voice as the heroic spirit suddenly materialized near the water. "If we can expose his noble phantasm, then my Gae Dearg," he emphasized his point by materializing his red spear and lifting it into the air, "can destroy the spell with one strike."

"Lancer, do you think you can strike Caster's noble phantasm from the shore?" Saber inquired.

Isabelle watched him smirk confidently before stating, "If I can just see it, then destroying it should be child's play."

"Very well, then Rider and I will act as the advance guard and engage Caster. Do you find this acceptable, King of Conquerors?"

"That is fine. My chariot has no need of roads, of course. But Saber," Iskandar paused with a question in his voice. "How do you intend to attack the enemy in the river?"

"My body has been blessed by the lady of the lake. Water cannot stop me, no matter how many fathoms deep it may be."

"Very impressive, that is quite the rare skill!" He boomed heartily, "I want for you to serve under my command even more now."

"You will pay for those words some other time," Saber retorted sharply, "But for now we need to drag Caster out from within that monster and destroy him."

"Ha! Indeed, then I shall take the lead!"

"Wait!" Isabelle shouted suddenly, catching everyone's attention. She watched Lancer stiffen and his eyes went wide when she crept out from behind Iskandar's giant oxen. He immediately took a step forward but stopped upon seeing the animals aggressively kick up dirt, a clear warning to stay away.

Diarmuid glanced between her and Rider, appearing quite alarmed as he asked, "Isabelle, what are you doing here?"

"Its fine," she reassured him before turning to face the other servants. "You can't just go charging in there. That dark mist surrounding Caster is caustic. It will degrade your weapons and armor, and even your skin if you remain in the miasma for too long."

"What, seriously?" Waver exclaimed. "Then how are we supposed to engage him?"

"If you allow me, I can place a protective barrier on the chariot and on your armor, Saber. I can't block out the effects of the miasma completely but it should at least buy you more time." Rider enthusiastically nodded his agreement and as Isabelle set to work she could vaguely hear Saber discussing the matter with Irisviel. After a moment of deliberation, the King of Knights consented as well. With the barriers finally set, Isabelle watched the two mighty heroes leap into the fray and commence their assault on Caster.

She shivered a little in the absence of Rider's chariot. With his oxen gone, Isabelle felt bare before Caster's monster and she was thankful when Lancer moved to place himself protectively between her and the shore. His body posture was quite tense and his eyes carefully watched the progression of the battle. He did not speak a word.

"Are you angry with me?" She asked a little hesitantly, feeling uneasy with his sudden silence.

"I am worried. This is a very dangerous battlefield. It is so dangerous that I left Lady Sola-Ui a fair distance away with the intent of engaging Caster alone." Lancer sighed deeply before confessing, "I wish you had stayed at the hideout."

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't allow you to fight this battle without me. Caster's abilities are too dangerous."

"Which is precisely why you shouldn't be here."

"I **need** to be here. I won't let you face this enemy on your own. You wanted me to take a more active role in the war so here I am," Isabelle declared stubbornly, missing the way his jaw clenched when she turned her gaze back out to the water. Rider and Saber were slicing and hacking away at the beast with no apparent progress. Even Archer's attack seemed to be utterly worthless against the creature's regenerative abilities. _And then there's Berserker making a mess of things like usual._ Isabelle was just happy the mad servant's attentions were focused on Archer rather than Saber or Rider.

"At this rate, I'll never be able to get through to Caster." Diarmuid sounded frustrated and she could see his hands clenching and unclenching impatiently around his spears. He looked agitated.

"Lancer," she spoke quietly, placing a hand on his back, "Please stop worrying so much about me. I'm fine."

"Your mana is being drained by those barriers and you grow weaker because of it. I need to end this quickly."

"That may not be possible…" Isabelle's voice trailed off as Saber skidded to a halt at the shoreline followed closely by Rider.

"Listen everyone," Iskandar spoke loudly, "We need a new strategy. However, to devise one we must first gain some time so I shall draw that beast into my Ionioi Hetairoi. It will be impossible for my elite troops to slay it even if they attack in full force but I can at least halt its advance within the reality marble."

"And after that?" Lancer inquired.

"No idea. After dragging something as large as that creature into my Ionioi Hetairoi the reality marble will only hold for matter of minutes. In that short time, we must devise a plan to destroy Caster." A sobering silence fell across the group of heroes at his words. When there were no objections, Iskandar reached down and snagged his master by the back of his shirt. "Boy, you must disembark now. You're staying here with them."

"Hey!" Waver protested as he was dropped from the chariot.

"Listen," Rider instructed seriously, "once my reality marble is deployed, I will not know what is going on in the outside world. Therefore, if anything happens I want you to concentrate and call to me. I'll send a messenger to you." The duo exchanged a look before Waver nodded his head firmly in confirmation.

"Got it."

"Excellent. Saber and Lancer, the rest is up to you."

"Wait, take me with you," Isabelle suddenly interjected, catching Rider off guard. "The miasma will damage anyone inside your noble phantasm. If I can provide at least some support for your troops then perhaps it can buy us a few extra minutes."

"Absolutely not," Lancer objected immediately, "That is far too dangerous."

"It's a good plan," she argued stubbornly.

"I'm afraid I must agree with Miss Isabelle. It is a sound plan and we could use the extra time," Saber asserted.

"But King of Conquerors, surely she will only get in your way."

"What has gotten into you, Lancer? Your words do insult upon this brave young woman. Have a little faith in your mast- friend," Iskandar corrected immediately. Fortunately, neither Saber nor Irisviel seemed to notice his slip up but Diarmuid froze instantly in place. _He knows about the command seal? How is that possible? But he is right... That was no way to speak to my master and certainly no way to talk about Isabelle._ Regret sunk its wicked teeth into his shoulders and he lowered his head a bit.

"Apologies for my rash words, Miss Isabelle. I did not mean them. However, I would still strongly advise you to remain here where I can protect you." She stared at him for a moment, slightly angered by his harsh words but electing to ignore it.

"King of Conquerors," Isabelle addressed him politely while still watching Lancer, "While I know there are no guarantees when it comes to a battlefield, do you promise to protect me as if I were your own master?"

"He does," Waver piped up.

"I shall treat you as a treasured comrade and protect you with my life, I swear it!"

"Alright, then let's do this."

"But Miss Isabelle-"

"It will be fine, Lancer. Have a little faith in me," she instructed calmly before allowing Iskandar to hoist her into the chariot. "And when we come back," she called, "I expect you and Saber to annihilate that monster."

"I- Yes, Miss Isabelle. I will see it accomplished."

"I know you will," she replied, her voice softening a bit as she allowed a smile to flicker across her features briefly. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

xxxxxxxxxx

Blinding light shot across the sky and the air itself shifted into a screaming vortex as Caster's monster was expelled from the reality marble. Its tentacles thrashed wildly, as if trying to grasp ahold of the air, before being plunged back into the river directly in Saber's path. Lancer watched anxiously, fear clawing at his insides as he waited for Rider to emerge from the Ionioi Hetairoi. Saber hesitated mid-swing, noble phantasm completely charged, fearful of catching Iskandar and Isabelle in the blast. Seconds felt like hours as the heroes waited. After what seemed like forever, a flash of bronze caught Lancer's eye before Rider's chariot came roaring into view. The oxen swiftly evaded the flailing tentacles before taking off towards the bridge.

"Finally, what took them so damn long?" Iskandar grunted, his breathing slightly labored from the effort of containing Caster's monster. Isabelle was tucked against his side and panted heavily, her body shaking from exhaustion. He maintained a firm hold on her waist as the chariot rocketed out of Saber's path. The second they were clear, a deafening blast of heavenly light erupted from Excalibur, ripping through the river and incinerating the creature on impact. Golden light spiraled up into the blackened night sky before fading like an extinguished flame.

"That was amazing," Isabelle breathed. Her voice was thick with exhaustion but it still retained an air of child-like wonder as she observed Saber.

"I was not sure you were still awake to witness it. Are you feeling alright? You expended far more energy than I would have thought possible for someone of your size," Iskandar teased lightly. Isabelle simply rolled her eyes and rested her forehead against his breastplate. The bronze metal was cool against her flushed skin.

"I'll survive," she replied with a murmur. Her body felt heavy, like it was made of lead, and a migraine headache pounded harshly against her skull causing her vision to swim. "Ugh, I think I maybe overdid it a bit though."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" Iskandar snorted while adjusting his grip on her waist to provide greater support. "Truth be told, I'm impressed you haven't collapsed yet."

"I'm getting there, just give me a second," she joked weakly, hearing him chuckle a bit.

"Do me a favor and stay conscious until Lancer gets here. Otherwise, I'm fairly certain he will accuse me of foul play and attack me."

"Jeez, well I guess we wouldn't want that," Isabelle agreed, adding, "Especially since we're allies."

"Ha! So, you accept my master's proposal?" His jolly voice was booming and she flinched at the loud noise.

"Waver already has my phone number," she replied with a weak laugh.

"Isabelle?" Her breath hitched instantly when Diarmuid's worried voice met her ears. She cracked her eyes open slowly and couldn't stop a small smile from creeping across her features at the slightly panicked look he fixed her with.

"Hey, long time no see," she greeted lightheartedly. This apparently did nothing to ease his concerns because Lancer immediately strode forward across the chariot and removed her from Rider's hold.

"Are you alright? What happened?" He asked urgently while eyeing Iskandar with suspicion. Diarmuid's embrace was comforting and warm, and Isabelle had to work hard to remain conscious as he gently cradled her against his body.

"She did marvelously, Lancer. You should have seen it!" Rider boasted loudly. "I am very impressed. If only she had been your master from the start, eh. You would already be victorious," he asserted with a playful wink her direction.

"How do you know about the command seal?"

"He was there when it appeared," Isabelle replied tiredly. "And because Waver is too observant for his own damn good." There was a slight pause in conversation before she stated, "I've agreed to an alliance with Waver and Iskandar."

"You have?" Lancer asked incredulously.

"Yep, so I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from attacking him. I was very well protected inside the reality marble. No harm came to me except what was self-inflicted."

"Are you certain you are alright?" Diarmuid asked again, sounding doubtful as he surveyed her pale form.

"I'm fine-

"She is not alright," Iskandar cut her off with a stern look. "Your master expended a tremendous amount of mana this night and will need to recover. You must keep her safe and avoid confrontations with enemy servants for the next couple of days. She needs to rest."

"Jeez, you make me sound helpless."

"Only for the next few days, my dear," Rider replied with a ruffle of her hair before winking in Lancer's direction. "Take good care of her now."

"I will. Thank you, King of Conquerors." With that, the lancer class heroic spirit leaped from the chariot towards the nearest roof and disappeared from site. The pair travelled in silence for several minutes as Diarmuid moved to retrieve Sola-Ui. Lancer felt certain he would have some explaining to do when Sola-Ui spotted Isabelle curled in his arms but he was too distracted to care. Emotions ran rampant through his system and he was carefully considering each one before opening his mouth, still quite ashamed of his behavior in front of Rider. _I insulted Isabelle in front of the other spirits._ Fortunately, no damage to her reputation had been caused thanks to Iskandar's sudden, albeit unexpected, defense of the girl- which was another issue Diarmuid needed to sort out. The rider class heroic spirit was certainly strong and appeared very fond of Isabelle. He would prove to be a useful ally. _So, why do I dislike him so much?_ Every moment Isabelle remained near him, Lancer could feel his chest tighten and his blood heat up. If it wasn't fear or concern for her safety, then what was it? Where was all this animosity coming from?

 _I'm jealous_ , Lancer realized as his pride and honor took another blow. Pettiness was very unbecoming of a knight.

"Diarmuid?" The heroic spirit was pulled from his thoughts by Isabelle's quiet voice.

"Yes, my Master?" She frowned a little causing him to chuckle. "Yes, Isabelle?" He corrected.

"What happened to your Noble Phantasm? For some reason, when I emerged with Rider from the Ionioi Hetairoi, part of the energy was missing. I thought perhaps you used it during the battle and the mana would regenerate but it's taking a lot longer than I expected." Lancer was silent for a moment, planning his next words carefully.

"Gae Buidhe was destroyed," he finally said, watching her expression closely as he added, "By my own hands."

"I don't understand. You broke your own lance?"

"I'm afraid so," he replied.

"But why?"

"To release the curse on Saber's left hand. She has an anti-fortress Noble Phantasm that was required to defeat Caster's monster." Isabelle grew silent. She did not appear angry but the sullen frown on her face clearly reflected she was not pleased with the situation.

"Saber is fully healed?" Diarmuid nodded his head regrettably. Guilt and shame weighed heavily on his shoulders and he awaited her harsh reprimands eagerly, seeking punishment that was most assuredly deserved. However, instead of pain he was met with a strange sense of relief.

"It was necessary," Isabelle finally stated, exhaling deeply to calm her frustration. "It was the only course of action we had. You made the right decision, Lancer."

"I doubt Master Kayneth will share your opinion," he commented glumly while leaping from another rooftop.

"My father can believe what he likes," she snorted. "It will not change the fact that you fought well today." Her words caused him to look down in shock.

"I did not represent you well today, Isabelle. I did not show the fundamental respect all servants should show to their master. You should be very angry with me."

"I will not be angry at you for trying to protect me," she replied pointedly. "I willingly placed myself in a very dangerous situation. It is you who should be upset."

"No, I am the one who-"

"Diarmuid," she stated firmly, cutting him off, "I leaped through a portal to god knows where with an enemy servant and a GIANT flesh-eating monster. That is completely insane, suicidal even. You should have slung me over your shoulder and hauled my crazy ass far away. Instead, you trusted me and I trusted you. That's the way this is supposed to work."

"But I questioned your judgement..." he trailed off uncertainly.

"Yes, you did, and it was very irritating," Isabelle admitted, feeling Diarmuid tense a bit, "But I would be more upset if you hadn't tried to stop me." Her servant grew silent for a moment.

"Truly?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, truly," Isabelle replied, her voice sounding just as exhausted as she felt. It had been a long night. She shuddered a bit when a bout of nausea suddenly assaulted her sense. _Ah shit, its starting already._

"Master, what's wrong?" He asked immediately.

"I'm fine, Diarmuid," she reassured him, "I just used too much mana fighting Caster's monster. Using that much magic in such a short period of time has consequences, basically my life is really going to suck for the next day or two."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Sadly no, but I appreciate the thought. All I need is to find Sola-Ui and get back to the-" Isabelle felt her voice stop cold when Lancer skidded to a halt. Her vision was blurry and it was dark, but she could've sworn there was-

 _Is that... a hand? With Sola-Ui's Command Seals?_

Isabelle felt her servant bristle before slowly approaching the chain-link fence lining the roof's edge. Just as she thought, wired to the fence in the far corner was a human hand with multiple holes through the center. The Command Seals were effectively destroyed and she tensed upon spotting a wet pool of blood on the ground. Clearly, the deed had not been committed very long ago. Diarmuid placed Isabelle back on the ground carefully before moving to inspect the hand, his expression unreadable.

The ramifications of their discovery sunk in very slow for Isabelle, no doubt a result of her exhaustion and severe mana depletion. She was both concerned and horrified, but these emotions seemed blunted. In fact, she was finding it difficult to formulate even the most basic of thoughts. Then another bout of nausea came. Her vision blurred and the world started spinning. Isabelle closed her eyes to make it stop but this only resulted in a loss of balance, sending her crashing to the ground. She flinched a bit from the pain and flinched even harder when her servant began shouting.

"Isabelle! Isabelle, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Diarmuid," she tried to reassure him but it came out jumbled. She wanted to say, "I just need sleep" or "It will wear off soon" but the words just didn't come. Instead, Isabelle wrapped her arms around his neck and simply burrowed into his shoulder. It was no use. She was just too damn tired.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Isabelle felt a pleasant numbness begin to creep across her skin as fear and apprehension finally gave way to exhaustion. Panic fluttered erratically inside her chest but her body refused to listen. Slowly, she went limp and darkness consumed the world as Lancer gripped her tight. Isabelle moved in and out of consciousness several times as her servant moved across the city. Through their bond, she could feel his distress and wanted desperately to help but it was futile. She was just too tired. Every bone in her body ached from the strain of using so much magic. Never before had she expended such a large amount of mana in such a short period of time. And the after effects were not pleasant... Isabelle's body shook violently and bouts of nausea assaulted her senses. It was better to remain unconscious.

 _But Diarmuid needs me. I have... to wake up..._

She was vaguely aware of warm lips ghosting across her forehead before she was lowered onto something soft. Gentle hands combed through her tousled hair and softly caressed down her cheek, soothing her back into unconsciousness. Isabelle felt pleasant darkness start to creep in but was startled out of it when Lancer's touch suddenly vanished, his tortured voice whispering, " _I'm sorry_."

It was only by sheer force of will that Isabelle managed to open her eyes. She was situated on her bed, tucked neatly under the covers with the lights off. The door was slightly ajar and Diarmuid was nowhere in sight. Stumbling out of bed, she crawled to the nearest wall for support and slowly began to inch her way out of the room. The dizziness was nauseating and the edges of her vision were dark. Isabelle fell several times before entering what remained of the old parking ramp. She could feel his energy, Lancer was just up ahead. _Damn it..._ She mentally cursed when her body slumped against a nearby pillar. He was so close, she could make out the glint from his red spear in the distance. Isabelle wanted to push forward but the darkness flickering in the periphery of her vision was a warning; she was dangerously close to blacking out again. _I could call out to him-_

"You completely incompetent, useless, bumbling fool!" Kayneth suddenly roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Isabelle cringed at the tone and fire seemed to erupt in her chest as her father continued to rage. "How dare you come back here alone! All that talk of chivalry and you couldn't protect even a single woman from being attacked?!"

"I am grievously sorry, Master."

"You have got to be the most worthless servant ever summoned by the Grail. First, you nearly allow your own Master to be killed and now this! What good are you, pray tell?"

"Please understand, my Master," Lancer entreated, "Lady Sola-Ui and I never entered into a proper pact and as such we could not sense each other's presence."

"That's no excuse," Kayneth hissed, "You should have taken special care to ensure her safety." Isabelle flexed her legs trying to stand, wanting to intervene, but they were like lead.

"Master Kayneth, please do not worry. Lady Sola-Ui yet lives," Diarmuid informed him confidently, adding, "I am certain of this because she continues to supply me with mana."

"That's irrelevant!" Kayneth barked. "You are not her servant and therefore you cannot discern her location. It doesn't matter in the least if you know she's alive!" Isabelle watched as her father covered his face with his hands and declared with anguish, "Oh Sola-Ui, I never should have given you those command seals."

"I could not dissuade her, Master. I tried to keep Lady Sola-Ui away from the battlefield but she was insistent. I share in the responsibility."

"I really can't believe you had the nerve to say that," Kayneth replied, his tone dangerous. "Don't try fooling me, Lancer. It was you who encouraged Sola-Ui to become ambitious in the first place." Isabelle watched as Diarmuid's head came flying up in sheer disbelief.

"I would never do that, Master!" He exclaimed defensively.

"It's just as it was in the legend," Kayneth mused darkly, sneering as he asked: "Are you truly incapable of seeing your Lord's fiancé without attempting to seduce her? Or perhaps it's the other woman in my life you want? I've seen the way your eyes rove over my daughter. I swear, you behave like a base animal." Isabelle felt her jaw drop in horror and anger immediately boiled up at his words. She opened her mouth to shout but stopped short upon hearing Lancer's response.

"My Master," Diarmuid's voice was lower than she had ever heard it. "Please retract those words right now."

"Oh, have I struck a nerve?" Kayneth continued to mock, clearly oblivious to the change in his servant. "Lancer, you're nothing but a beast who swore an oath of eternal loyalty to his master and then gave into prurient lust when the moment suited him."

"My Master, my Lord, why will you not understand?" Diarmuid's voice rose slightly with frustration. "I wished only to defend my honor. To fight well in a noble battle and achieve victory of your behalf."

"Don't you ever speak to me in that manner, Servant! Understand your place! You're nothing but a spectral ghost granted form and substance by magic. You dare to sit there and lecture your master? It is absurd and unacceptable!"

Lancer's fists tightened and his jaw clench as Kayneth continued to let loose. His words were scathing; they were so damaging that Diarmuid feared reconciliation would never be possible. Lady Sola-Ui was in serious trouble, Isabelle was unconscious, and his master seemed more interested in belittling his servant than formulating any kind of plan.

Sighing deeply to keep his anger in check, Lancer opened his mouth to try again, "Master, while I unquestionably deserve your reprimands, I believe it would be more prudent to discuss how we might address Lady Sola-Ui's kidnapping."

"And so, you continue to question and criticize me! If you are so dissatisfied, then I believe you have but one option available to you," Kayneth paused to lift up his right hand where a crimson command seal had been restored by the Overseer. "Use your precious pride and chivalry to resist my command seal. With this I can force you to do anything I want at any time. You can _never_ stand against me. You are nothing but my puppet, Lancer, and this seal is the string that controls you." At his words, an unfamiliar emotion swept through the bond connecting Isabelle to Diarmuid. _This is despair_ , she realized as her hand came up to her mouth in horror.

"Lord Kayneth," Lancer replied in quiet concession before bowing his head low, his face nearing the ground. Her father sat in his wheelchair with a smug smile on his face. And in that moment, Isabelle hated him. She tried to send soothing waves through the command seal but Diarmuid did not seem to notice. His body was rigid and his eyes remained glued to the floor. Then he suddenly moved, his head jerking in the direction of the road.

"Master?"

"What now? Don't tell me you still have something to say to me?" Kayneth snapped.

"No, that isn't it. Something is approaching this building." Headlights suddenly spilled across the yard as a black car pulled up. Isabelle watched with trepidation as Saber and Irisviel stepped out, leaving the vehicle running. Lancer was quick to confront them about Sola-Ui's whereabouts but it seemed the two women truly had no idea where she might be. They glanced between each other uncertainly.

"My apologies Lancer, but her disappearance was not our doing," Saber stated, watching the spearman's gaze fall slightly.

"Then why have you come?"

"With all the other servants exhausted, I thought this would be the perfect night to finish our battle. No one will interrupt us after facing Caster," she explained with a barely reserved grin. Clearly, she was looking forward to the battle.

"But Saber, surely your mana reserves are low after the use of your Noble Phantasm. I would hate to conclude our duel if you are not at your best." At his words, the wind magic concealing Saber's sword dissipated to reveal Excalibur's glowing blade. Lancer shook his head and chuckled in amusement. "Very well, King of Knights."

As the battle commenced, Isabelle struggled to her feet while gripping the stone pillar tightly. The timing of this duel was definitely not ideal but she resolved to do what she could to assist Diarmuid. Even with the restored use of her left hand, Isabelle rather doubted Saber could use her Noble Phantasm twice in one night but the swordswoman remained a formidable opponent. Isabelle shifted toward the railing but stopped cold at the sound of a hammer cocking. She frozen in place and nearly had to cover her mouth to keep from shrieking. Sola-Ui was slumped against a nearby pillar, blood and dirt caking her face, her right arm no more than a stump bandaged in dirty rags. Kiritsugu, Saber's master, stood directly over Sola-Ui with a submachine gun pointed at her head.

Swallowing harshly, Isabelle shrunk further into the darkness to avoid discovery and glanced to Kayneth in alarm. Her father remained completely unaware. He sat with his wheelchair near the ledge, muttering angrily to himself while watching Lancer.

"Why does he not win? If he has no certain path to victory, then shouldn't he be escaping with his master? Our highest priority right now should be to rescue Sola-Ui. Why can he not understand even that?! What a useless servant-" Kayneth stopped mid-sentence when a tiny bronze bullet casing came rolling slowly towards his feet. Isabelle watched his face pale. Then her father slowly turned his head, visibly recoiling in his wheelchair upon spotting Kiritsugu. Bringing an index finger up to his lips to signal for silence, Saber's less than noble master tossed a rolled-up piece of parchment at Kayneth. He fumbled a bit but eventually opened it.

 _A self-geis scroll?_ Isabelle recognized the manner of lettering immediately but was unable to make out any words. The distance was too great. It was a magical contract that bound both participants until death. _This can't be good..._ she thought gravely, sending a pulse of energy through the Command Seal. Unfortunately, in the chaos of battle, Diarmuid was unable to feel it. She frowned before craning her neck, trying to make out the contract's details.

Kayneth read the terms carefully, growing paler with each word, and Isabelle felt her stomach lurch with dread when he glanced to Lancer and then at Sola-Ui with tears rolling down his face. His fiancé's condition appeared to be worsening. Sola-Ui's breathing was shallow and her skin was becoming mottled. Soon, she would be dead.

Her father glanced to Diarmuid one last time, watching the Irish spearman clash ferociously with his opponent, before hanging his head low and shakily signing the piece of parchment. The effects were instant. Isabelle staggered backward when white-hot pain came scorching through her Command Seal and she could hear Irisviel let out a bloodcurdling scream. Whipping her head around, Isabelle stifled a choked sob at the grisly scene. Her servant, the man she had grown to love, stood with Gae Dearg impaled fully through his own chest.

Lancer looked surprised at first, as if not believing reality, before letting out a strangled gasp as blood burst from his open mouth and poured from each eye. Mana hemorrhaged from the deep wound and Isabelle could feel his energy rapidly start to fade while he staggered on his feet. Diarmuid collapsed to his knees shortly after. Isabelle blinked several times as hot tears poured down each cheek. This couldn't be real. It had to be some horrible nightmare and surely, she would wake up soon. Except that she could feel it... Isabelle could feel it all. Every beat of her servant's heart, every gasping breath, it all flowed mercilessly into her through the very last Command Seal.

"Use your remaining Command Seal to compel your servant to commit suicide. The terms of the agreement have been met," she heard Kiritsugu speak coolly as he approached the battlefield with Kayneth in tow. Sola-Ui was draped across her father's lap and he was looking at Diarmuid with a combination of horror and regret.

"Master, why?" Lancer choked while gripping his spear tightly.

Kayneth ignored him, instead turning to Kiritsugu, "Now the geis binds you?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "I can no longer kill you or Sola-Ui. Such is our agreement." Isabelle felt her eyes widen.

 _How could you? Father, how could you do this-_ She balked sickeningly when the sharp snap of gunfire burst from the clearing. Blood splattered as Kiritsugu's associated emptied an entire magazine into both Kayneth and Sola-Ui. Bullets ripped through the hearts of both mages before they toppled from the wheelchair to the ground. They were dead within seconds.

"I personally can't kill you, anyway," Kiritsugu muttered rather nonchalant as he lit a cigarette.

"You want to win-" Diarmuid gasped with a cough, blood pouring from his mouth, "You want to win so desperately? You desire the grail so desperately? And you!" He shouted, turning to Saber. She visibly recoiled at the hatred in his eyes. "You feel no shame at all?! You, who have crushed my sole remaining wish..." His body was starting to deteriorate. His energy signature was growing weaker with every passing second. Soon, Diarmuid would disappear forever.

Isabelle could hear the thunderous beat of her own heart filling her ears as an eerie sense of déjà vu washed over her. It was a disturbingly familiar sense of helplessness- _just like last time_ \- when memories of her first encounter with the Irish spearman flashed across her vision. Diarmuid sat propped up against a tree trunk, smeared with blood and a giant hole in his chest. She remembered every detail from his wavy chestnut hair to the dying glow of his golden eyes. Isabelle could feel a monstrous surge of panic as magic began to spark erratically around her.

 _I promised him- I promised that it would be different, promised that I would save him. I can't let this happen. I WILL NOT LET THIS HAPPEN!_

Reaching deep inside, Isabelle grasped at her remaining strength and sent a roaring blaze of mana directly towards her right hand. The unstable energy sizzled through her like acid, scorching across pale skin as it concentrated at the Command Seal. Isabelle drew out every last drop of power stored within her body before focusing it all on the one thing she wanted most. _You must live, Diarmuid._

"By the power of my Command Seal," she yelled with determination, watching as crimson energy bursting from her right hand to illuminate the parking ramp. Lancer jerked his head up and she nearly cried when his shocked, desperate golden eyes met her own.

"Diarmuid!" Isabelle heard herself scream before blinding golden light erupted from the wound in his chest. "I command you to live!"

The blast was deafening. Golden energy billowed upwards like a geyser and the subsequent shockwave hurled both Kiritsugu and Saber backwards. Isabelle was knocked bodily to the ground, her vision going white as silence filled the air. Then came the ringing in her ears and the sound of bullets whizzing overhead. A window shattering brought Isabelle out of her stupor and she inhaled sharply when cold air suddenly pierced her skin.

"Diarmuid?" She rasped, mind teetering on the edge of darkness.

"Isabelle!" He shouted over the roaring wind. She felt warm arms tighten around her small frame and realized Lancer must be carrying her. Her eyes remained closed. "Isabelle, are you alright? Why did you do that? Using that Command Seal might kill you!" His voice was panicked and she could hear an erratic heartbeat in his chest _. At least its beating,_ she thought with relief.

"I wanted to save you," she explained, her body feeling extremely heavy.

"Never mind what happens to me-" she snorted at this- "The amount of magical energy you used tonight is bordering on lethal, Isabelle. You could die right here in my arms." There was a tremble to the heroic spirit's voice that she had not heard before and Isabelle wondered vaguely if it was raining. Every now and then she could have sworn a water droplet hit her face.

"I'll be fine..."

"Do you know that for certain?"

"I can't know that for certain, Lancer, I'm not a seer. Sadly, my mother did not pass on that gift to me." Isabelle chuckled a little in spite of herself. Delirium was clearly starting to set in and soon she would plummet into a coma.

"Where is your mother?" He abruptly asked, "Maybe she can help."

"She died when I was seven years old." Her servant grew quiet at the revelation and Isabelle felt him stiffen when she mumbled: "I suppose I'm technically an orphan now." She could feel a gnawing sadness somewhere deep inside but in her current state the emotional capacity to handle grief simply wasn't there. Instead, Isabelle was overwhelmed with a sense of relief. Diarmuid was safe. History did not repeat itself, she could worry about the rest later.

"Isabelle, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault... From the very first moment I entered into your life I have brought nothing but heartache and misery." Lancer's voice was twisted in a state of hopelessness as he continued, "I'm a disgrace. In my carelessness, I allowed my own master to be slain before my very eyes and was powerless to stop it. Your father and Sola-Ui are dead because of my incompetence-"

"Diarmuid," she breathed, cutting off his ranting. Her voice was quiet and Lancer had to crane his neck down to hear. "I'm so... happy... you are safe." His eyes widened in surprise, this not at all being what he expected. A strange ache was present in his chest and Lancer felt his heart flutter when Isabelle pressed her face into his shoulder, inhaling deeply.

"Isabelle, please..."

"Don't give up, Diarmuid. Everything... will be alright..." she reassured him softly before surrendering herself to the impending darkness.

Lancer could not remember a time in his life, living or dead, that fear had grasped him so tightly. For the first time, emotions were running rampant- unchecked and unchallenged- as he cradled the small woman in his arms. He was desperate to locate shelter and after what felt like hours, Diarmuid stumbled upon a deserted cabin deep in the Fuyuki woods. The door was locked but this did little to dissuade him. One shattered window later and Lancer was climbing inside, landing in what appeared to be a central living room. A television was tucked in the corner and a lumpy brown couch sat facing out a large sliding glass door. Glancing around, he spotted a small kitchen and dining table near the front of the home. It was a small space.

Once satisfied it was safe, he proceeded down a narrow hallway finding a bathroom and- _thank the gods_ \- a snug bedroom with a fireplace. Diarmuid tucked Isabelle under the covers and immediately got to work lighting a fire. He tried to calm himself but found it impossible. His heart slammed against his chest, thundering loud enough for him to hear the noise, and his stomach was twisted into uncomfortable knots. He felt completely helpless.

Finally, once the room was illuminated by the dull glow of embers, Lancer crawled into bed and pulled Isabelle to him, effectively draping her across his body. It was the longest night of his entire life. He prayed to every god, old and new, and pleaded with the fates to let her live. When morning finally came, Diarmuid rolled to shield her from the light and jumped when she stirred. He watched anxiously as her stormy blue eyes slowly fluttered open. Isabelle blinked a few times to bring him into focus, a sleepy smile spreading across her features when he finally did.

"Hey, you," she greeted tiredly.

"Thank the gods..." Diarmuid breathed in relief, blinking a few tears away as he moved to cradle her face in his hands. His forehead came to rest against hers. "I was afraid I'd lost you." She smiled at his words and nuzzled his nose gently.

"I'm okay, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"I think so... I'm still really tired though."

"Then sleep, my love." The words just slipped out. They felt so natural he almost didn't notice. Diarmuid opened his mouth to apologize but Isabelle was already fast asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Diarmuid felt his eyes crack open at the sound of crickets chirping outside the open window. The room was dim in the fading light. _Did I sleep all day?_ He wondered, noticing that Isabelle was not curled up beside him. Lancer inhaled deeply before moving to sit up, his body feeling quite heavy. Absent her Command Seal, Isabelle could not provide mana to keep him materialized and the energy deprivation was becoming apparent. He grew weaker with each passing day. Diarmuid tried to slow the progression by resting his body but ultimately it was a losing battle. Soon, he would become completely useless.

 _And then I will disappear forever._ Lancer grit his teeth and exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. _Isabelle will find a way to fix this. She has too..._ No matter how hard he tried to convince himself of this, the creeping shadow of doubt remained at the periphery of his senses. They were quickly running out of time.

Sensing his master's presence, a short distance from the cabin, Diarmuid swung his legs out of bed and made his way out of the bedroom towards the back porch. He quietly slid open the glass door before stepping out into the brisk evening air. The temperature was much cooler now with the setting sun. His gaze flickered out to the lake as colors of pink and orange danced across its surface, mirroring the elegant design displayed in the sky. Isabelle was sitting on the beach with her legs curled to her chest and her chin resting on her knees, eyes cast out to the water. The gentle ebb and flow of waves occasionally reached her toes but she didn't seem to notice; she appeared too lost in thought.

Lancer allowed himself a brief moment to admire her before approaching. Isabelle's long honey colored hair was left down and draped across her shoulders like a shawl, the tips gracing the golden sand beneath her. Her long, smooth legs were mostly bare- upper thighs and intimate places covered only by a pair of torn jean shorts. A rather large zip-up hoodie concealed the rest of his master's curvaceous figure. As Diarmuid neared, he couldn't help but notice a white bikini strap peeking out from beneath the sweatshirt's collar. He raised an eyebrow at this.

"You went swimming?"

"Lancer!" Isabelle squeaked in surprise, spinning quickly in the sand to face him. "I thought you were still asleep."

"Just woke up," he explained before plopping himself down on the beach. Isabelle's cheeks held a light pink tint and he watched curiously as she shrank into the hoodie, letting it all but consume her small body. She appeared nervous. Lancer felt his eyebrows furrow in concern and he slid a little closer, feeling her body stiffen when their shoulders brushed. "Isabelle, are you alright? What's wrong?" He asked worriedly. She bit the inside of her lip and remained silent, her eyes focused intently on the sand beneath her feet as the color in her cheeks intensified. This was absolutely ridiculous.

After days of tireless research, Isabelle was now well-informed regarding viable mana transference methods for masters and servants who lacked a Command Seal. Two avenues were readily available should such a situation arise. The first option involved stealing life force from an unwilling participant by either killing them or placing the individual under a spell. Neither she nor Lancer would condone such behavior and therefore this method was already a bust. _Which just leaves option two._ Isabelle swallowed harshly and tried desperately to control the erratic fluttering in her chest. The very notion of employing such archaic magic was completely unacceptable and yet they stood absent choice.

Logically, there was no reason to be worried. The method was extremely basic and would easily provide enough mana to keep her servant materialized. _And Diarmuid would be careful not to hurt me._ There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he would be a perfect gentleman. Lancer would be chivalrous and respectful, and would very likely spoil her in every way possible. _Which is precisely the problem._ The entire concept of engaging in sexual relations with the Irish Spearman scared the absolute hell out of Isabelle because she _desired_ it. She craved his gentle touch and yearned for greater contact, wanting to feel every contour of his powerful body as he pressed himself firmly against her. The need was almost overwhelming. Isabelle tried to fight it, wholeheartedly believing the best way to protect Diarmuid was to remain blissfully ignorant of her own desires. However, it seemed fate had other plans. Regardless of how the situation played out, Isabelle would need to sleep with Lancer. If she insisted the arrangement was strictly business and held no deeper emotional significance, she would undoubtedly wound Diarmuid to such a degree that their relationship might never recover. _I can't do that,_ she realized, eventually yielding to her own emotions. _I couldn't bear to see him in that much pain. I love him too much._ She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart before bringing her eyes up to meet her servant's worried gaze.

Isabelle swallowed harshly before stating, "While you were asleep, I finally discovered a way for us to share mana without using a Command Seal." She watched his eyes widen and his body suddenly stilled.

"Truly? You found a way?" He breathed, his voice no more than a hopeful whisper. She nodded her head silently and jumped when Lancer suddenly embraced her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her small frame, drawing her close to his chest before letting out a relieved sigh. "That is wonderful news," he exhaled, sounding quite exhausted. "I need to regain my strength as quickly as possible. In my current state, I am not confident my body could withstand a battle with an enemy servant. I can't protect you like this. Please, we must move forward with the mana transference right away." She gulped nervously at his words.

"If you insist." Her voice was quiet and her gaze downcast, prompting Lancer to loosen his embrace and tilt her chin up. He searched her eyes for a moment, worry clearly evident on his face.

"Isabelle," he started seriously, "Why do you look so apprehensive? Just what exactly does the mana transference involve?" She bit the inside of her lip when a fresh blush came scorching across her cheeks. After heaving a deep breath, she set out to explain the current dilemma to her servant. Deciding it was probably better to frame the entire predicament in light of alternative options, Isabelle first described how mana could be obtained by stealing life force from others and, as expected, Diarmuid immediately dismissed the idea, a look of horror and disgust shooting across his features.

"You would ask such a thing of me?"

"Never," she reassured him, watching his body relax somewhat. "I could never condone something so vile. However, by taking this option off the table we are left with only one choice."

"So, what is the alternative?"

"To obtain mana from a willing donor."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Diarmuid commented, grinning a little as he said, "I have my master right here."

"Technically you can choose any donor you want but yes, I can provide you with mana if that is your desire." Lancer stared at her quizzically.

"Why would I choose a different donor?" He asked slowly, sounding confused.

"If, perhaps, you did not wish to perform the required, um, activities with me," Isabelle tried to explain, wanting nothing more than to disappear inside her enormous sweatshirt as her servant continued to stare at her.

"Why wouldn't I want to-" Lancer stopped speaking mid-sentence when a look of alarm shot across his features. "Does the ritual require that I hurt you?"

"No."

"Then I find any activity perfectly acceptable," he declared confidently, "Just tell me what to do."

"Well, we- In order to perform the ritual properly I need you to, um-" she stumbled over her words several times before finally announcing, "I need you to sleep with me."

"Like sleep next to each other?"

"No, Lancer," Isabelle stated, rather exasperated as she explained, "I mean we need to have sex." His look of horror was comical. She would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious. Diarmuid's eyes were wide with disbelief and his mouth was agape. He tried to convince himself that he'd misheard her but one look at Isabelle's scarlet cheeks and trembling form had him thoroughly convinced that she was very serious. A montage of emotions assaulted him shortly after.

"Isabelle, I-" he paused, having no idea what to say. His heart beat was suddenly painful and Diarmuid had to struggle to remain disciplined when carnal urges unbefitting a proud knight came smashing through his carefully crafted walls. His mind was suddenly filled with images of Isabelle sprawled under him, nails biting into his shoulders and soft whimpering filling his ears as he pressed into her. _Her golden hair thrown back in ecstasy-_ Diarmuid abruptly sprung away and stood, taking several steps backward as he tried to control himself. The act was unthinkable. _Obviously not, since you've been fantasizing about it for weeks._ Lancer mentally cursed. _This is NOT the scenario I had in mind!_

The ramifications of her proposition pierced his chest like a knife. Isabelle was willing to offer her innocence in exchange for maintaining his physical form and securing their place in the Grail War. She was finally within his grasp. He could finally indulge in the fantasies and desires that endlessly tormented him, driving him to the brink of madness whenever he was in her presence. _I could have her. I could sweep Isabelle into my arms right now and make love to her just as I've imagined doing so many times. And yet..._ Diarmuid's thoughts trailed off dismally.It seemed even in the absence of his charm spell, fate was too cruel to allow Isabelle the freedom to choose him. There had to be coercion involved; an alternative driving force aside from simple love and affection. It wasn't fair.

Feverish heat raked him from head to toe and his body trembled with scarcely contained anticipation as he stared at Isabelle. His hands flexed impatiently, wanting nothing more than to sweep her away to a place where only comforting heat and pleasure existed. _But she has to reciprocate._ Lancer reminded himself quickly, attempting to douse the flames licking tantalizingly across every inch of his skin. _She has to want this. She has to want_ _ **me**_ _._ Of course, he could always find someone else to restore his mana; the charm spell would make it painstakingly easy to draw any number of attractive women to his bed but the prospect was not appealing. In fact, the very notion of sleeping with someone besides Isabelle had both his heart and mind roaring in defiance.

Isabelle looked startled by his sudden retreat but chose to remain seated on the beach, her stormy blue eyes gauging his reaction carefully. She forced her breathing into a calm, regular pattern and willed her heart to slow down. Diarmuid's response to her statement was surprising. She did not expect him to recoil so- well so violently... The withdrawal left her feeling confused and rather hurt, though she hid it well. While it was true Lancer had never outright said the words, Isabelle assumed based on his actions that he harbored a fair amount of attraction and desire for her. _So why does he look so horrified? Is this really that big of a blow to his honor? Or maybe it's me-_ Her face paled a little. She was quite inexperienced. Perhaps he would prefer to perform the require activities with someone else? She shivered and an unpleasant emotion twisted painfully in her gut at the mere notion. Standing slowly, Isabelle lowered her head a bit and reluctantly broke the silence.

"I know this isn't exactly ideal," she acknowledged, her voice dull and her eyes downcast as she took a few steps forward, "but we seem to be out of options. If we don't do something soon, you will disappear. This is the only way." Painful silence ensued once more and Isabelle chanced a glance up at the heroic spirit standing a few feet away. His golden eyes were intense and unreadable, and his body posture was rigid against the twilight breeze. She swallowed harshly, regretting the words before they even formed as she said, "If-if you'd rather perform the mana exchange with someone else that is fine. I realize I'm not very experienced. I also understand that performing such an act with your master is highly inappropriate. Do whatever needs to be done to keep your pride intact. Just, please-" she swallowed nervously again before fixing him with an almost pleading look. "Just please, Diarmuid, don't disappear."

The heroic spirit in question stared at her incredulously for a moment, as if not believing she would grant him permission to seek out and bed another woman, before closing the gap between them in two long strides. Isabelle inhaled sharply at his sudden proximity and suppressed the urge to recoil when one of his hands curled gently under her chin.

"Isabelle," Lancer started seriously, "I have no desire and no intent of acquiring mana from a source other than you. It would bring me no pleasure or satisfaction. However-" his voice was reluctant but firm as he said, "I could never ask you to commit such an act absent any deeper meaning or emotional significance. This is something that must be freely given. And if you deem me unworthy, then I shall respect your wishes and make other arrangements."

The wiring in her brain seemed to short out. Isabelle blinked several times, attempting to process his superfluous words in a cohesive fashion. The embers in her chest were sparking dangerously. This was it. She either needed to turn away or ignite the flame.

Locking eyes with the Irish Lancer, Isabelle open her mouth and, after an agonizing pause, she gave a sincerely honest reply: "Diarmuid, you could never be unworthy of anything."

His golden eyes widened a fraction. _Does that mean what I think it_ \- His thoughts came screeching to a halt when Isabelle suddenly reached up and pulled him into a kiss. Her soft lips were insistent as she sealed them over his. Lancer found his body responding long before his brain could process what was happening. By the time he recovered from the initial shock, his hands were already tangled in Isabelle's honey colored hair and his tongue was tracing along her lower lip. Her body trembled at the contact prompting him to wrap an arm securely around her waist before delving into her mouth. She gasped at the intrusion, a loud moan reverberating in the back of her throat when his hot tongue slid coaxingly against her own. Isabelle hesitated at first but after some rather _effective_ persuasion she found her own tongue reciprocating in kind. She shuddered when her actions elicited a low, approving groan from the warrior holding her. It was already too much. The scalding heat, the intensity of his passion. All of it had her seeing stars even without the effects of the charm spell. _And this is only the beginning..._ Isabelle felt her eyes screw shut and a strangled whimper left her mouth upon imagining all the _other_ places the Irish Lancer might make use of his skilled tongue.

The noise was startling and Diarmuid drew back immediately for fear that somehow he'd hurt her. It sounded almost pained and his mind whirled with possible explanations. Was he moving too fast? Was his grip too tight? Was she uncomfortable against this tree- _When in the hell did that happen?!_ It was true. They were no longer situated on the beach. Apparently, at some point, Lancer had backed Isabelle several feet to the left and effectively pinned her against the nearest tree all while continuing his assault on her lips. One of his hands remained on her waist and the other braced against the rough bark beside Isabelle's head. He swore this woman drove him to madness. Feeling very concerned now, Lancer pulled back a little further.

"Isabelle, I'm sorry-" the words caught in his throat the second their eyes met. Her cobalt blue eyes were stormier than he'd ever seen them and desire flashed behind them like bolts of lightning. She clung to his shoulders for support, panting lightly as she stared up at him through heavy lids.

"You stopped," Isabelle observed breathlessly, a question in her voice. He just stood there, mesmerized and rigid, trying desperately to control himself. It was taking every ounce of restraint Lancer possessed to keep from smashing his lips against hers and tearing off every bit of clothing separating her skin from his hands. Completely distracted, he missed the flicker of disappointment that shot across her features.

"Diarmuid, you don't have to do this," Isabelle finally whispered, afraid her voice would crack if she spoke any louder. "You don't have to serve me anymore. You can disappear, return to a peaceful existence free from violence if that is what you want. I'm so incredibly selfish trying to keep you here..."

"You foolish girl," she heard Lancer murmur as his hands began to trace up her shoulders, his lips brushing over her ear as he insisted, "that is not the reason I stopped."

"Then why?" She breathed, heart racing as he slowly and deliberately clasped the zipper of her sweatshirt, tugging gently until the article of clothing was completely open in the front. His hands paused on her hips and Isabelle swallowed nervously when his gaze flickered downwards to trace over her exposed midriff and white bikini top; a strange, intense emotion swirling behind his golden eyes. She resisted the urge to cover herself and instead focused on controlling her breathing, a task that proved quite difficult when his hands suddenly slid up to caress her soft skin.

"Diarmuid, I don't understand," she stated, trying to be assertive but failing miserably as his hands massaged her hips and drew tantalizing circles across her abdomen. He then moved to play with the bikini strings trailing down her back. His ministrations had her feeling lightheaded and Isabelle feared she may black out completely when his hand suddenly dipped dangerously low to undo the clasp of her jean shorts. The article of clothing slid sensually down her thighs, pooling around her bare feet. Forcing her voice to work, she asked again: "Diarmuid, why are you doing this?"

"Why are you letting me?" He countered while dipping his head to place a kiss below her ear.

"I asked you first," she retorted childishly, feeling irritated when he smirked against her neck. "Diarmuid, I'm serious. Do you-" Isabelle's voice faltered when the heroic spirit in question began to suck lightly on her earlobe. "I... you... God, Lancer, do you want to sleep with me or not?"

There. She said it. He could refuse if he wanted but at least she managed to get the stupid words out.

She felt his lips pause for a brief moment before Lancer suddenly gripped her thighs and hoisted her off the ground, his hips pressing firmly between her legs. Isabelle let out a surprised yelp followed quickly by a loud, unrestrained moan when the extent of his arousal pushed against the thin material of her bikini. Waves of intense pleasure swept up her spine and without thinking she wound her legs tightly around his waist, drawing him closer. She heard Lancer inhale sharply before a low groan reverberated deep in the back of his throat.

His breathing was heavy in her ear as he insisted, "I want this, Isabelle. I love you and I want to make love to you. I want it so desperately that the mere thought sends my heart pounding and my body burning with desire."

Isabelle gulped. There it was, those three forbidden _damning_ words.

 ** _I love you._**

She felt like crying and rejoicing at the same time. Instead, she opened her mouth and asked, "Then why, Diarmuid? Why are you hesitating?"

"Because _you_ need to want it," he pressed, his body completely still in her arms. "You need to make the decision free from coercion and the effects of my charm spell. I want you to choose me, Isabelle. I want you to see all my faults and failures, my strengths and weaknesses... I want you to see into the very depths of my soul and choose to love me anyway." Lancer sighed deeply as his forehead came to rest against hers, his golden eyes dancing like fire when he finally opened them.

"Isabelle, I'll ask you again," Diarmuid stated slowly, pausing to shift his hips forward and watching as she inhaled sharply. "Why are you letting me do this to you?"

"Because I don't want you to disappear," she asserted weakly.

"You entertain my affections only to acquire the Grail? To revive Master Kayneth?" Isabelle shook her head forcefully, feeling tears prickle the corners of her eyes as she met his troubled gaze. Her breath caught instantly. There is was again; that profound devotion that sent her heart smashing into the front of her chest.

 _You are my wish._

His words crashed over her like a torrential storm, seeping into her very soul and shattering all resistance. Every carefully crafted wall, every defensive barrier, the protective shell around her heart. It all crumbled in an instant. The words came out before she could stop them.

"Diarmuid, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." Tears were flowing freely now and Isabelle's body shook with the release of so much pent up emotion. "I tried so hard... I fought with everything I had not to fall in love with you. I ignored it, buried it, denied it at every turn and yet you came to me in dreams, Lancer! You tore the walls away one by one, shaking my resolve with whispered promises and- and why did you have to kiss me? Honestly, what did you think was going to happen-"

Isabelle's rambling words were abruptly silenced when Diarmuid kissed her. Still fully clothed, the heroic spirit grinded into her with a rhythm that had Isabelle seeing stars and he swallowed every moan with fervent passion. By the time he was finished, she could scarcely remember her own name.

"Are you really apologizing for loving me?" He panted, equally affected by the heated kiss but sounding mildly frustrated all the same.

"Yes," Isabelle shot back stubbornly. "Me and you falling in love was not supposed to happen. I should be protecting you, not fantasizing about a romantic relationship!" She immediately realized her mistake when a sly grin made its way across his features.

"So, you fantasize about me, huh?" Lancer watched her eyes go wide as saucers and a dark blush quickly colored her cheeks. He chuckled lowly before hoisting her body higher on his hips and moving swiftly away from the tree, heading in the direction of the cabin.

"Hey, where are we going?" She squeaked.

"To the bedroom."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

WARNING: This chapter contains explicit content (lemon). This chapter is optional- you may skip it and the rest of the story will still make sense.

Isabelle was fairly certain her heart was going to burst out of her chest when the bed came into view. This was too much. _Too much, too fast,_ she decided as her body quivered against Lancer, her legs wound so tightly around his hips that she feared he may break. He found this particular concern quite amusing and his only response was to squeeze her backside and let his tongue tease up her throat while he walked. They were almost there, only a few feet to go.

"Relax, love," Diarmuid breathed against her ear while seating himself on the edge of the bed and carefully pulling her onto his lap. Isabelle nodded mutely, feeling some of the tension drain from her body as he graced her neck with an affectionate nuzzle. "Let your arms drop," he instructed softly. Isabelle obeyed, allowing the death grip she maintained on Lancer's shoulders to slacken and her hands to drift down until they settled against his chest. He was so unbelievably warm. His breath was hot against her pale neck and his calloused hands were burning as they trailed down her bare back. She shuddered violently and a soft whimper left her lips when one of his hands slid up her ribcage to caress the soft curves concealed by the fabric of her bikini top. Isabelle felt her back instinctively arch and a fresh blush spilled onto her cheeks at his brazen behavior.

"You... Are much bolder than I expected," she expressed in between heavy breaths, feeling him hum softly against her neck.

"Do you dislike it?"

"No," she replied automatically, eyes fluttering closed when his teeth grazed her collarbone. Lancer seemed satisfied with her answer because moments later Isabelle felt his hand slip beneath the bikini top to tease the supple flesh underneath. She immediately squirmed in his lap, her hips pressing insistently against his growing arousal.

"Isabelle," Diarmuid spoke, his voice low and strained. "You're wearing too many clothes. May I take them off?" She nodded silently against his cheek, far too embarrassed to say the words outright. At her consent, the sweatshirt was tugged away from her slender shoulders; it dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. Isabelle expected her swimsuit top to follow but was surprised when it did not. Lancer had paused in his actions to carefully inspect the runes decorating her left arm, his expression thoughtful as his gaze traced over the archaic curves and slants.

"Hey, you okay?" Isabelle asked softly, watching his golden eyes flicker back up.

"I'm fine," he reassured with an affectionate kiss to her forehead. "I just wanted to make sure everything was intact before I... before we take things further." She blinked a few times. The man had her more than half-naked already, _straddling_ his waist, and he was still playing the part of a gentleman.

"Are you satisfied with your assessment?" Isabelle inquired with a quirk of her brow, voice slightly teasing. Diarmuid offered her a rather roguish grin before she felt both ties of her bikini top come undone; an action that elicited a rather loud squeak. She was pinned against the mattress shortly after. Isabelle hastily moved to cover herself only to stop when Diarmuid pealed her arms away.

"No, don't," he breathed huskily, "I want to touch you." Isabelle felt her body shiver when one of his hands moved to trail down the center of her chest. Her heart raced beneath his palm and nearly stopped when his fingers grazed the white fabric of her bikini bottom. Isabelle tensed immediately, hands shooting to Lancer's shoulders to halt his advance.

"W-wait," she stuttered nervously, regretting the words instantly when Diarmuid pulled back and removed his hands. His touch was like fire and its absence left her cold.

"Isabelle, what is it? Are you alright?"

She bit her lower lip and nodded, feeling a little embarrassed as she replied, "I'm sorry, I just..."

"I am moving too fast," Diarmuid finished for her. He gave her cheek an affectionate nuzzle before promising, "I shall go slower. Please let me know if the pace is not to your liking."

Isabelle breathed her understanding before his lips found hers once again. His kiss was slow and deep, draining much of the tension from her body. Lost in the sensation, her hands began to trail absentmindedly across his neck and shoulders and she was surprised when cold leather and steel suddenly melted away granting access to sleek muscle and hot skin. Intrigued, Isabelle curved one hand behind Lancer's head to keep his mouth engaged while the other traced over his toned chest and abdomen. His body was like chiseled marble under her fingertips, beautifully crafted and incredibly strong.

Isabelle moaned loudly, warmth pooling between her legs as she wound them more tightly around his waist. Diarmuid smirked into the kiss before responding with a swift thrust of his hips. He swallowed her loud cry easily, sucking on her lower lip for a moment before breaking the kiss. Isabelle was panting now and her cheeks were flushed.

"I take it you are satisfied with _your_ assessment," he teased lightly, watching her blush intensify tenfold.

"What makes you say that?" She demanded haughtily. Lancer simply cocked an eyebrow and shifted his weight forward, chuckling at her sharp intake of breath. He stared down at her fondly before permitting his gaze to wander over her mostly naked body.

This experience was vastly different from his other sexual encounters with women. In the past, the charm spell made things escalate very quickly causing the experience to feel rushed and often unfulfilling. There was no need for kind words or gentleness; it was a physical act and nothing more. But not this time. Isabelle was infinitely different from his other lovers. Her love for him was real and her innocence was freely given. And Diarmuid would make sure that by the end of tonight she realized how much that meant to him. Glancing back up, the heroic spirit was surprised to find Isabelle's cobalt blue eyes watching him.

She grinned at him cheekily before asserting, "You know, you were much more persuasive in the dream." Lancer blinked a few times in surprise. _She is teasing me_ , he realized slowly, smirking a little at the revelation. He was not accustomed to having such a mischievous bedmate, and Diarmuid would be lying if he claimed he did not enjoy it.

"Is that so?" He growled back playfully. "Then I suppose I will need to try a little harder." With that, the heroic spirit permitted the rest of his clothing to dematerialize, leaving himself completely bare as he hovered over her. Isabelle felt her body tense and a soft whimper left her lips when something hard and warm suddenly pressed against her inner thigh.

"D-Diarmuid..." she gasped in surprise, gripping his shoulders tightly. Her heart was pounding erratically and she was starting to feel lightheaded again.

"Trust me, my love," he encouraged calmly, lips ghosting over her ear as he urged, "Just close your eyes and relax. I will not hurt you."

"I know, I trust you," Isabelle breathed, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of his lips trailing down her neck. She wondered vaguely what he was looking for when a sudden jolt of pleasure took her breath away. _That... is the same spot... as before..._ It was the sensitive area Lancer had discovered during their previous session. _The one that had me panting and moaning his name up on the roof._ A scarlet blush colored her cheeks at the memory; a blush that only intensified when Diarmuid began to achieve similar results with his current ministrations. Her lack of self-control was embarrassing and yet Isabelle couldn't stop. His name became a quiet mantra on her lips as she pleaded with him to continue.

Lancer obliged by sucking the area teasingly while simultaneously caressing each breast with tender, careful strokes. Her reaction was exquisite. Isabelle's soft, porcelain curves arched beautifully into the hard contours of his body; her stormy eyes growing darker with desire. It was more than he could bear and Lancer quickly found his mouth working at her chest instead, tongue twirling around an exposed pink bud.

"Diarmuid..." Isabelle moaned loudly while tangling her hands roughly in his hair.

The sound sent chills down his spine and he responded to it with a gentle nibble on her sensitive flesh, an act that caused Isabelle to throw her head back and cry out. Deciding he wanted more of those sounds, the heroic spirit slipped a hand to her inner thigh while simultaneously teasing his mouth away from her breasts and down her abdomen. She watched his progress from under hooded lids, her breathing heavy from the intense stimulation.

Diarmuid caressed the milky skin of her inner thigh with tantalizingly slow strokes before allowing his fingers to slide experimentally over the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden beneath the thin fabric of her bikini. The fleeting contact elicited a loud gasp and Diarmuid was quick to glance up at Isabelle, gauging her reaction. Her appearance nearly drove him over the edge. Long honey colored hair was fanned across the mattress and her azure blue eyes were dark with desire. Add to that the way she was currently biting down on her lower lip and Lancer was lost.

He could barely hear his own voice as he asked, "Do you wish for me to continue?" Meeting his intense gaze, Isabelle nodded and Diarmuid could have sworn something broke inside him. Before he could think, his hand brushed the bikini to the side and he slipped a finger into her moist heat, nearly groaning at its tightness. God, she was perfect. Every curve of her slender body sent his heart pounding and every moan put a substantial crack in his self-restraint. His body felt like it was burning and his arousal was becoming painful. He needed to be inside her.

 _Not yet_ , he insisted, willing his body to remain still as he worked.

Isabelle felt her vision go white as Diarmuid slowly pumped in and out, massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb as he did so. Her fingers left his hair to twist into the sheets and several moans escaped the tight seal of her lips when his mouth began to tug at the ties of her bikini. They unraveled easily and before Isabelle knew what was happening Lancer had inserted a second finger. She permitted her eyes to close as he continued to thrust and curl rhythmically inside her, evoking sensations that left her breathless.

Her eyes came shooting open when something warm and hot suddenly encircled her pleasure center. _His tongue_ , she realized with a loud groan, heat rapidly starting to pool between her thighs. Isabelle was on the verge of something she couldn't quite describe. Stars danced at the corners of her vision and pressure was building in places she'd never felt before. The wait was agonizing.

"Diarmuid, please," Isabelle pleaded, unsure what she was asking for but somehow knowing he could provide it. At her request, his skilled tongue quickened the pace and his fingers suddenly thrusted deep inside. That was all it took. Her walls clamped down and a burst of slick warmth coated his fingers as she cried his name. Isabelle barely had time to gather her thoughts before Lancer was moving again. The heroic spirit shifted rapidly in bed, moving to his knees and pulling her onto his lap so his arousal pressed against her core.

"Isabelle?" He questioned, his voice low and strained with the effort of controlling himself. "Do you truly love me?"

"What?" She breathed in confusion, mind still dizzy with pleasure.

"Are you really experiencing all of this free from the effects of my curse mark?"

"Yes," she sighed as her nails traced over the muscles of his back and shoulders. She felt Lancer shudder and couldn't help but place a few kisses along his jawline.

"Are you sure?" Diarmuid continued, more weakly, as his head tilted back to grant her access to his throat.

"Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?"

"Because I am about to take your virginity," he explained, inhaling sharply when her teeth grazed his pulse. "I have never done this before... not even... with Grainne..." The words were becoming more and more difficult to form as Isabelle continued to tease his sensitive neck. Being such a vital point, Lancer was always careful to keep his neck closely guarded and yet here he was; head tilted carelessly back allowing Isabelle to do whatever she pleased. It went against every survival instinct. _But it feels so good._

"You weren't Grainne's first love?" Isabelle questioned, sounding surprised.

"No, I was not. I first met Grainne the night of her wedding party after her union with Fionn was consummated. And even if we had met sooner," Diarmuid paused for a moment before sighing deeply and admitting, "there were others before Fionn so I doubt it would have mattered." Isabelle blinked a few times, unsure what to say. It was quite the revelation. Choosing to remain silent, she jumped a bit when Lancer grabbed her shoulders and gazed deeply into her wide eyes.

His voice was desperate and his body posture surprisingly vulnerable as he said, "Please, Isabelle, tell me what we share is real. Tell me that you want me, that you love me-"

His demands were cut short when Isabelle promptly kissed him, hands tangling in his hair as she slid downwards onto the hard warmth situated between her legs. Diarmuid let out a surprised gasp followed by a deep, guttural moan as his hands moved to grip her hips tightly. Slowly, he eased her down until resistance in the form of a thin barrier, proof of her innocence, was reached. Then her breathless voice met his ears.

"Diarmuid, I'm in love with you. Please, take me."

"Isabelle, look at me." She complied and without warning, Lancer surged into her. Her cobalt blue eyes went wide with shock and wonder as he thrust deep inside her for the first time, a reaction that struck at the very core of his most primal desires. He was her first. No one could ever take this experienced away from him. An overwhelming sense of gratification immediately consumed him and Diarmuid choked back another moan when heated mana began to flood throughout his body. Feeling his strength rapidly start to return, he made a conscious effort to remain still despite every instinct telling him to move. Isabelle was still incredibly tight and he did not wish for her first time to be painful.

"Diarmuid?" Her soft voice was barely audible.

"Yes, love? Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"It's healed already," she replied automatically, eyes wide with an emotion he did not recognize. Lancer grew concerned that perhaps he had been too rough. He was about to apologize when her next words caught him completely off guard.

"Diarmuid, you feel so good..." Isabelle breathed before leaning fully against him. He did not resist as she brought them down to the mattress, stopping when she sat astride his waist. Then she was moving. Slowly and uncertainly, she rocked against Lancer in a way that had his mind spinning. He permitted his eyes to flutter closed and inhaled deeply before gripping her hips. He guided her movements until she was able to maintain a steady pace of her own. Then his own hips came surging up to meet her. The room was filled with pleasured moans and sighs after that.

"Master..." Diarmuid groaned unabashedly causing her cheeks to burn. In a whirl, their positions were reversed and Lancer was dominating. His fast, direct thrusts had her seeing stars and she cried out in ecstasy when he hit a particularly sensitive spot deep inside. Having found his mark, Lancer angled his hips and proceeded to stimulate the area until she was screaming. She gripped him like he was the only thing anchoring her to the world.

 _I'm being too rough._

The thought was fleeting and Diarmuid immediately forgot about it when her nails bit into his shoulders and her breathless voice begged him to continue. He felt his brain crack at the sound. All traces of self-restraint vanishing, Lancer had Isabelle pinned to nearly every piece of furniture in the cabin before they were done. The table, the desk, the wall, the bed- His hands roamed over her curves and his lips sought out every bit of skin he could reach, tracing up her pale neck and flushed cheeks. Soon, his mouth was at her ear whispering promises of eternal love and loyalty. She accepted his words with a blinding kiss.

When his body finally neared the edge, Diarmuid kissed Isabelle deeply before spinning her until she was bent over the back of the couch. She moaned loudly at the new angle from which he entered, gasping his name softly as he began a steady pace. His one hand gripped her hip firmly while the other glided down the curvature of her back. Isabelle's slender body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and her cries intensified when Lancer quickened the pace. The heroic spirit sucked in a breath when her walls tightened once again. Reacting, Diarmuid pulled his lover flush against his chest before thrusting deep inside. A cry of rapture met his ears as Isabelle threw her head back and pressed herself against his body.

"Isabelle..." Diarmuid groaned loudly while gripping her tight. He buried his face into her golden hair and took several deep breaths as pleasure momentarily blurred all sense of reality.

"Don't leave me, ever," her breathless voice commanded.

"Never," he promised, golden eyes fluttering open. She peered at him over her shoulder with a look so filled with affection and contentment that Lancer couldn't help but capture her lips again. Isabelle sighed happily into the kiss and slowly relaxed into him, feeling overcome with exhaustion as she sunk further into his embrace.

"I don't think I can walk," she breathed jokingly against his lips. Diarmuid chuckled at this before gently lifting her off the ground.

"I take it my performance was satisfactory?"

"God, Diarmuid... If I would have known how amazing you are at sex I never would have held out so long." He raised an eyebrow at this.

"You exaggerate," he insisted modestly while moving toward the bedroom.

"No, I'm not."

"Then perhaps I should have ravaged you in your father's study after our first healing session..." He trailed off thoughtfully, missing the redness that suddenly stained her cheeks. "It had those large windows and the desk was the perfect height. Lord Kayneth could have walked in at any moment-"

"Stop!" she yelped loudly, hands flying to cover the profound blush now spilling across her features. "Jeez, Lancer. You make it sound like you were actually considering this." Isabelle felt her eyes widen and the heat in her face intensified when her servant offered a roguish grin.

"Oh, I considered it plenty," his sultry voice assured her.

"You-you did?" She stammered.

"Indeed. My imagination was quite difficult to control in your presence, I'm afraid. I imagined doing all _kinds_ of things to you." The tone in his voice sent pleasant shivers down her spine.

"You wanted me even back then?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes," Diarmuid replied simply before slipping them both beneath the covers. "You were so kind to me, Isabelle. You were consumed with my wellbeing, healing me even when in my twisted state I saw the injury as a form of punishment. You asked nothing in return and then you did something I thought impossible: you freed yourself from my curse." Lancer embraced her tightly and Isabelle felt his lips press against her cheek as he said, "You are the first woman to ever truly love me." She gently kissed him in return before permitting their eyes to meet.

"I am yours, Diarmuid. And together we are going to win the Holy Grail War."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Where in the name of God and seven hells have you been?!" Waver roared through the telephone that he and Rider were currently sharing. "You could have been dead or captured or-or skewered to death by Archer! Had your limbs torn off by Berserker!"

"Boy, I think they get the picture-"

"No, I'm not done yet! I've been worried sick for the past five days and I'd be very interested in hearing ANY excuse that would justify me losing that much sleep. I'm like a bloody insomniac since the Caster incident! I'm nauseated all the time and I can't think straight, I lose track of time too easily and-"

"Waver, I'm OK," Isabelle interjected loudly, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. She heard a quiet sniffle at the other end of the line before Waver insisted:

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am fine and Lancer is here with me," she reassured him calmly. "I'm sorry to make you worry so much but we had to leave town in a hurry."

"We heard about the attack on your safe house, Miss Isabelle," Rider's deep voice rumbled. "Waver and I investigated and we were deeply troubled to find you absent with numerous blood splatters and two dead mages within the complex." Isabelle felt her stomach lurch at his words and one glance at Diarmuid confirmed that he too was unsettled. While she accepted sacrifice was necessary, the prospect of her father and Sola-Ui being left to rot and decay in that abandoned parking ramp was upsetting.

"Are the bodies still there?" She asked quietly.

"No, we took it upon ourselves to bury them in the forest," Rider stated proudly.

"I don't understand, why would you do that?"

"He was your father, Isabelle. As much as I hated him, I wasn't about to just leave him there," Waver explained sympathetically. "We made some makeshift gravestones too. They're not much but at least you will have a place to visit them... I mean, if you want to..." His voice trailed off uncertainly. Isabelle blinked a few tears away before grabbing the phone.

"Thank you, Waver and Iskandar. Words cannot express how much that means to me."

"Oh, it was nothing!" Rider's jolly voice boomed, "We're happy to help, and even happier that you two are still very much alive and kicking! At least I presume so, haven't heard Lancer's voice yet."

"I am here, King of Conquerors," Diarmuid spoke firmly.

"Excellent! Then the only thing left to do is annihilate all the other servants!"

"And, pray tell, how do you plan to accomplish this?" Lancer inquired. The other line went silent for a long moment and the sudden change was not lost on Isabelle.

"Waver," she started seriously, "did something happen while we were gone?" She heard the young master sigh deeply before asking:

"Where are you guys staying exactly?"

A few hours later, Rider's chariot touched down in the soft grass of the front yard and Waver came scrambling toward the cabin. He nearly knocked Isabelle to ground when she opened the door unexpectedly. The young mage teetered a bit before straightening up and fixing her with a look of complete relief. His arms twitched, like he wanted to throw them around her but was refraining. Iskandar, on the other hand, had no such reservations. Within moments, Isabelle found herself hoisted into the air in a bear hug. Missing the way Lancer tensed, she giggled and happily returned the embrace.

"You had us worried sick, my dear. Thank the gods you both managed to escape unscathed," Rider's voice boomed heartily as he settled her back on the ground and kissed the back of each hand. Diarmuid felt his stomach twist uneasily when the rider class servant paused briefly to examine her right hand. His action was discreet and easily went unnoticed by the two mages. Lancer might have believed it was just his imagination playing tricks but the piercing gaze Iskandar fixed him with moments later was unmistakable. His look was razor sharp:

 _Where is the Command Seal?_

As Isabelle ushered them inside, Diarmuid had to bite back a retort when Rider brushed past him and muttered, "Guess you didn't escape so unscathed after all."

The tension between the two heroic spirits was blistering as they settled at the table near their respective masters. They glared at one another but did not speak while Waver recounted the events leading up to the materialization of the Grail. It seemed the war was already nearing completion. Archer and his master had begun the summoning ritual at a theatre in downtown Fuyuki using Irisviel as a catalyst, and it would come to completion tomorrow night.

"Wait, I thought the Grail could only materialize once six servants had been defeated in battle?" Isabelle questioned apprehensively.

"It would seem that with the addition of an Einzbern homunculus it can materialize fully and interact with the present world before the war has been completed."

"So, Archer and his master could use the Grail as a weapon to defeat the other servants?"

"In theory, yes," Waver's voice was grave as the reality of the situation settled across the room. Isabelle let his words sink in for a moment before speaking.

"We need to stop them," she finally said, her voice determined as she looked between Rider and Lancer. She felt her brow furrow when they said nothing. "Hey, are you guys okay?"

"Just fine, Miss Isabelle," Iskandar assured her brightly but his gaze never left the spearman at her side. "Diarmuid and I simply need to discuss a few things." She gave them both a questioning look when the pair rose from the table and moved toward the exit. Isabelle watched them go with a confused expression.

"What's with them?"

"I have no idea," Waver replied with a shake of his head.

The air outside was crisp and cold as Lancer followed Rider toward the shoreline. The King of Conquerors did not say anything for a moment and simply observed waves crashing against coarse sand. His red mantel billowed in the wind like a crimson stain against blue skies.

Iskandar inhaled deeply before stating, "I battled through desert sands, scorching heat, monsoon rains, thick jungles, and the deep snow of mountains. My conquest was absolute and my empire spanned all the way from Greece to Northwest India but never did I reach the Great Sea." His voice was bitter with disappointment and an uncharacteristic frown was spread across his features as he observed the waves. Iskandar was silent again and Lancer watched him carefully, trying to discern his intentions. The rider class heroic spirit did not look poised to attack but anything was possible. "We all have regrets," he continued after a moment. "That is why the Grail chose us to be its martyrs. It dangles our greatest wish in front of our eyes and base instinct does the rest. We rip each other apart like starving beasts, honor and perspective long forgotten on the shores of the past."

"I consider myself fortunate, Lancer," Iskandar suddenly said, catching Diarmuid by surprise. "I was summoned by a master who not only treats me with a fundamental sense of respect but who also reminds me of what it means to be human. We are either heroes or monsters, you and me. Our humanity was stolen from us by the hands of fate."

"I sought no great wish or kingly treasure from the Grail," Lancer spoke lowly, eyes cast to the distant water. "I only wished to fight well in a noble battle and win victory on my master's behalf. I sought only to redeem myself from past transgression."

"And now?" Rider asked, fixing the Irish lancer with a knowing look. Diarmuid did not reply and silence ensued once again. Iskandar sighed loudly before turning to face his fellow spirit. "Isabelle's command seal it gone," he stated seriously, getting right to the point. "Your bond is severed and yet here you stand, stronger than you ever were before. I'm no fool, Lancer. I received quite the expensive education from both mage and warrior alike. There are only two ways for a servant absent a proper master to obtain mana. You don't strike me as the type of man to take advantage of others but I am obliged to ask: Were you dishonest or coercive in any way when you bedded Isabelle?"

Diarmuid felt his hands immediately ball into fists as rage boiled to the surface. Rider's intended implications were horrifying and his heart thrashed violently at the very notion. Golden eyes burning dangerously, he made eye contact with Iskandar.

"I did not hurt her," Lancer asserted fiercely, his voice unwavering. Rider's gaze seemed to soften a bit and his shoulders visibly relaxed. He sighed deeply and chuckled to himself, breaking eye contact to stare back at the waves.

"Do you love her?"

"What?" Diarmuid asked, startled.

"Do you love her," Iskandar repeated quietly.

"More than life itself," he replied resolutely.

Rider smiled sadly and his next words left Diarmuid quite confused: "Well then, it seems the Grail must belong to you." Lancer blinked several times and opened his mouth to seek clarification but it was too late. The Macedonian warrior was already on his way back to the cabin.

"Boy, we're leaving," he informed Waver upon entering.

"What? But we only just arrived," Waver protested from his place at the table. "We can't leave now; Isabelle and I are working on a battle strategy."

"We won't need one. Archer has challenged me to a dual and I intend to accept."

"What?! When did this happen?"

"We will talk about it later," Iskandar replied firmly, his normally vibrant and boisterous presence suddenly gone. He glanced between the two mages, his gaze coming to rest on Diarmuid when he appeared in the doorway. "Listen to me, the other masters have no idea you survived the attack on the safe house. They will not be expecting you. Tonight, I will face off against Archer and I have no doubt Saber will clash with Berserker. This will leave the stage wide open for you and Lancer to take the Grail."

"No, we should stick together," Isabelle insisted while standing from the table. "What if you need our assistance?"

"He would not accept even if we offered," Diarmuid explained, nodding his understanding. "Honor would never allow such a thing."

"But-"

"Everything is going to be fine, my dear. I promise," Iskandar assured her with an encouraging grin. "You just focus on getting your hands on that Grail. And you-" he paused to look directly at Lancer, "had better keep her safe while I'm away. Protect her with your life."

"You have my word, King of Conquerors."

"Good, then let us go boy."

Isabelle was filled with trepidation as Rider took flight and disappeared. It was all happening too quickly again. A brief taste of bliss and then it was gone. She'd been so happy this morning, so content just wrapped in the arms of her servant that she nearly forgot about the war. The only reminder was Lancer's red spear glinting against the nightstand. When she had stirred awake, his lips had moved to trail leisurely across her neck while his thumb gently caressed the skin of her waist. He was far more affectionate than she expected.

 _Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?_

Seating herself on the couch, Isabelle brought both knees to her chest and effectively curled into ball. She felt Diarmuid settle next to her and was relieved when one of his arms draped across shoulders. He was warm and she leaned into him, jumping a bit when he scooped up her small frame and gently placed her in his lap.

He cradled her against his body and quietly asked, "What's wrong?" Isabelle swallowed harshly before answering.

"I did not expect for us to be rejoining the war effort so soon... I was hoping- I guess it doesn't matter anymore." Lancer did not seem satisfied with this and he pulled her crystal blue orbs up to meet his worried gaze.

"You were hoping for what?"

"I just wanted more time with you," she admitted, eyes closing tightly as tears began to sting. "I know it's foolish and selfish of me. I should be training or studying or trying to formulate some sort of strategy to keep you safe but I just... I'm terrified of losing you, Diarmuid. My emotions are affecting my judgement. Maybe you would be better off without me in the final battle."

"That is not true," he insisted firmly. "Those emotions make you strong. I am afraid too, Isabelle." This caught her attention.

"You? But you're this mighty hero... You're much stronger than me." He chuckled lightly while brushing a tear away from her cheek.

"Yes, I am strong but this has nothing to do with my physical strength. I am no longer invincible, there is now a weakness tucked away in my heart. There is a spark where darkness use to reside. You have given me a reason to live, Isabelle, and now I am afraid of losing it."

"Have I made you weaker?" She whispered, fearing the answer. Diarmuid let out an amused breath before granting her nose an affectionate nuzzle.

"No, my sweet girl. I am stronger than ever before thanks to you. I will protect you and cherish you until my last breath, I won't let any harm come to you."

"And you'll stay with me?"

"Yes, for as long as you will have me or until fate tears me from your arms."

"I won't let you go," she declared suddenly, catching him off guard. "I won't let fate have you again. Not this time." There was the fierceness he'd been missing, it blazed in her eyes like a monstrous storm. Swinging her legs to straddle his waist, she gave Lancer the most profound expression she could muster before stating with absolute seriousness, "Fate can go fuck off." Diarmuid didn't even try to contain his laughter.

"I couldn't agree more."

xxxxxxxxxx

WARNING: This section contains explicit content (lemon). If you wish to skip, please go immediately to the next chapter. You can skip the following paragraphs and the story will still make sense.

Diarmuid trained like a man possessed that evening. His newfound strength allowed him to cleaved stone into ribbons and left craters in the earth. Gae Dearg, the demonic spear of exorcism, pulsed with nearly unstrained excitement at the prospect of fighting at full strength again. Even when bound to Kayneth, Lancer felt weak. His strikes were slow and less precise, a result of incompatibility between his own mana and Sola-Ui's. Her flow of energy was certainly adequate, but Diarmuid could feel his spirit pushing against the cold, demanding mana feeding him. There was no such problem with Isabelle. His body reveled in the warmth her energy provided. It filled every crevice of his soul with a vivacity that he couldn't quite describe. It was exhilarating.

Lancer ripped through foliage and rock formations, pushing his body to the max until sweat coated his brow and a dull ache sunk into his bones. He panted a bit while assessing the damage. A large portion of the forest surrounding the cabin was destroyed. It was a shame to ruin such beautiful surroundings but if it helped him protect Isabelle it was well worth the price. Satisfied, Diarmuid made his way back to the house and quietly stepped inside. His master was seated cross-legged on the living room floor and appeared to be meditating. Candles were scattered over the coffee table casting a gentle glow across tan walls. Rather than disturb her, Lancer slipped into the bathroom and permitted his mud-caked armor to dematerialize. He breathed a sigh of relief when hot water struck his skin. It was unusual for a heroic spirit to crave sleep or the comforts of a hot shower. However, his time with Isabelle seemed to be awaking humanistic desires that had not been present before.

Leaning his head back, Lancer allowed the water to run down his toned chest and abdomen. He imagined Isabelle's soft lips pressing against the back of his neck while her gentle hands drew tantalizing circles over each hip. God how he wanted her here, in the heat of the shower. Diarmuid let out a low groan when his body responded to his thoughts. _No, not here. I can't take her here._ He reminded himself, recalling how the protective runes faded when hammered by rain. Reluctantly, Lancer switched the temperature to cold all while attempting to calm his racing heart. It was then that a quiet knock came at the door. Jumping a bit, he switched off the water and just barely managed to get a towel around himself before the door creaked open and Isabelle's worried gaze appeared. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped upon noticing his current state. Her eyes widened a fraction and a pink blush immediately settled across her features. Diarmuid stood by fogged mirrors, water clinging to sleek, toned muscles that were rippling after the heavy training session. His almond hair was dripping wet and a white towel hung low on his hips. Lancer watched her wide eyes trail appreciatively down his body and had to suppress a shudder. She blinked several times before attempting to formulate a sentence.

"Are you alright?" She finally asked, taking a hesitant step into the small bathroom. "I heard a weird noise." Diarmuid felt an embarrassed heat immediately flood his cheeks.

"I'm fine, love-" He tried to insist before his breath suddenly caught. Isabelle had closed the gap to place a concerned hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound under her fingertips. She peered up at him with perfect blue eyes and Lancer found it difficult to keep his imagination from wandering. His thoughts must have shown on his face because the hand on his chest slowly began to drift south. He sucked in a breath as her fingertips graced over his ribcage, trailing lower to caress down his abdomen.

Isabelle let out a loud gasp when she was suddenly pinned to the door frame. Diarmuid's lips sought her own hungrily and there was an urgency to his touch that had not been present the previous night. Calloused hands roamed freely over soft curves, dipping into every valley and groove they could find. Her white blouse was on the floor in seconds. The fierceness of his passion made Isabelle tremble and she gripped him tight to keep from falling. Lancer responded by lifting her off the ground and guiding her legs to wrap around his waist, pressing her against the door frame. A strangled moan left her lips when the extent of his excitement became clear.

"Bedroom," she gasped before his lips came crashing against hers again. Diarmuid needed no further instruction. Within seconds, Isabelle found herself pinned against the mattress with a very eager, very _aroused_ Lancer hovering above her. She shuddered when his palms slid up her inner thighs, pushing her legs further apart as the towel fell from his waist. His hands moved quickly to remove her panties but Isabelle did not allow it. In a whirl of sheets and blankets, their positions were reversed.

Diarmuid could not contain a gasp of surprise when his petite master suddenly rolled until she was straddling him, pinning both his wrists against the bedsheets. She held him there for a moment, listening to his erratic breathing before leaning down until her lips brushed his ear.

"Remain still, Diarmuid," she commanded, her breathless voice exceedingly seductive as her thumbs ran circles across the sensitive skin of his wrists. Yet another vital point he left carelessly unguarded in her presence. Lancer shivered a bit and nodded his head. He vaguely wondered what she could be planning before the sensation of her lips trailing down his neck and chest caused his brain to short out. Isabelle's hands slid from his wrists to explore his naked body and as commanded, Diarmuid did not move. He remained completely still, completely at her mercy. When she began to trace his scars- first with her fingertips, then with her lips- several low, rumbling sounds escaped the tight seal of his lips. These sounds grew into quiet groans as her caresses continued to move south. Her tongue flicked across his lower abdomen and he inhaled sharply. This was torture, Lancer decided.

Grainne never affected him in this way. She never teased or tormented him, not like _this_. In truth, Diarmuid could scarcely believe what was happening. His innocent little master was eliciting sounds from him that he didn't think himself capable of making. It was absurd. The more Isabelle dominated, the more aroused he became. His hands twisted into the sheets and his erection grew almost painful. Finally, much to his absolute horror, a small pleading sound escaped from his lips. Lancer felt her lips pause briefly. Then his head was thrown back with a long, guttural moan.

"Gods, Isabelle..." Diarmuid groaned loudly, knuckles white against the sheets. "You don't have to... Mmmm... To do this..." He was panting already. It was only by a miracle he managed to remain still as her hands and lips and _tongue_ worked him up and down. She was tentative at first but now her moves were growing bolder, provoking more and more of a reaction. His hands flexed, begging for release so he could bury them in her hair. It had been so long... Due to the curse mark, women very rarely had the patience to pleasure him before intercourse and Grainne was no exception. Diarmuid would never ask for it; he was more than happy to forgo his own desires to keep his partner satisfied. But feeling it here and now, being serviced by his _master_ \- it was more than he could bear.

"Isabelle, stop," he finally gasped when his orgasm neared. To his relief, her lips stilled and he was able to take some deep, calming breaths. His eyes fluttered open and Diarmuid was surprised to see sparkling blue orbs staring back at him in slight confusion.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked a little nervously. He found her inexperience quite endearing and couldn't stop a light chuckle from reverberating in his chest.

"No, you were perfect," Lancer assured her, his heart skipping a beat when a bright smile appeared on her face.

"Then why did we stop? You seemed close..." Diarmuid balked inwardly at her words.

"I did not think you would appreciate such a thing," he replied carefully, watching her reaction. Isabelle was looking confused again.

"But I wanted to please you..." she stated slowly, head tilted innocently to the side, "Would that really have been so bad?" _No, it wouldn't be._ Diarmuid felt his body move before rational thoughts could be formulated. She was too perfect, too sincere. Her words made his body ache and groan in places he never knew existed, and he _needed_ to touch her, needed to feel the softness of her skin and the warmth between her legs.

Isabelle squeaked against his mouth when he suddenly leaped up to capture her lips, his hands tangling roughly in her honey colored hair. The remainder of her clothes were quickly discarded and soon Diarmuid was hovering over her once again.

"I thought I told you to remain still," she accused weakly as he nipped at the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

"You can punish me later," Lancer breathed huskily before swiftly entering her. An overwhelming sense of gratification consumed him as the room filled with Isabelle's breathless moans and sighs. She cried out his name in ecstasy as he moved inside her, utterly consumed by the intensity of the pleasure he provided. He took Isabelle in every position he could think of, sending her toppling over the edge several times. It was only when his lover shook with exhaustion that Diarmuid allowed the experience to end. With a final thrust, he buried himself deep inside and let out a rumbling groan before collapsing on her chest.

"Are you... ever... going to let me spoil you?" She panted, sounding a little exasperated.

"No, I don't deserve you," was his only reply. Isabelle simply rolled her eyes and permitted her fingers to lace through his almond hair, massaging his scalp. Lancer sighed happily and did not move.

"What am I going to do with you?" She mused, smiling as he placed small affectionate kisses against her skin.

"You'll have to punish me, I suppose," he murmured sounding not at all concerned. She laughed a little, and when his heart slowed down to a reasonable pace, Diarmuid reluctantly shifted to reposition them. Crawling up the bed, he pulled Isabelle to him until she was nuzzled against his chest, his arms coming up to wrap protectively around her small frame. She hummed her contentment and immediately relaxed into him.

"I love you," she said, causing his heart to swell. He would never get tired of hearing those three words for as long as he lived.

"I love you too."

"We have to win tomorrow. We just have to..." Her voice trailed off and Lancer could tell she was falling asleep. He kissed the top of her head fondly and replied with:

"Sleep now, love. Tomorrow will come soon enough but for tonight I am yours."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

The lake was eerily calm before the final battle as Isabelle and Diarmuid prepared. Waves were silent against the shore and only a gentle breeze was left to sway the trees. The deer and other wildlife had hidden away, as if they could sense the impending darkness and bloodshed. Isabelle shivered slightly but it wasn't from the cold. She anxiously paced back and forth in the front yard waiting for Rider to appear. He had agreed to take them as far as Fuyuki Bridge where his upcoming battle with Archer was imminent.

Diarmuid felt strangely calm sitting with his back facing a large oak tree. His heart beat was steady and Gae Dearg's aura was still for the moment. The only concerning dilemma at present was his master's fear and her endless pacing. Quickly growing tired of it, Diarmuid rose from his position and waited for Isabelle to near. When she did, he grabbed her waist and pulled the petite mage to the ground, settling her in his lap.

"It's going to be fine," he reassured her with an affectionate nuzzle.

"You can't know that," she asserted but remained in his arms. Rather than argue, Lancer pressed her against his chest and buried his face into her hair. They maintained this position for several minutes in silence until Iskandar's familiar mana appeared at the periphery of their senses. The pair rose from the ground just as his chariot set down. His oxen appeared more agitated than normal, stomping and kicking up dirt the second their hooves touched the grass. Lancer watched them with caution and was surprised when Isabelle walked right up to one of them and placed a hand on its muzzle. The animal made an approving grunt before knocking its large head against her shoulder, causing her to smile gently. She scratched behind its ears, stating:

"You take good care of that big oaf, ok?" The animal snorted, as if it were obvious, before knocking into her once again.

"Isabelle?" She turned her head at the sound of Waver's voice. "Are you ready to go?" Nodding once, she moved to the back of chariot and allowed Diarmuid to hoist her inside. He followed behind swiftly and before she could blink they were in the air. Cold wind rushed up to meet them, Iskandar's crimson mantel billowing like a banner in the night sky. Isabelle shivered and swallowed harshly. This was it. Her eyes drifted closed and she reached into the deepest recesses of her body, praying for the courage and strength to carry on. When the screeching sound of wheels against pavement struck her ears, Isabelle felt her determined gaze fly open and was startled to find a set of smoldering golden orbs staring back. Diarmuid was more serious than she had ever seen him and his body posture went rigid when Archer's smug voice wafted across the bridge.

"I thought this was a private invitation," the King of Heroes drawled as Lancer and Isabelle dismounted. He was standing half-way across the bridge, golden armor shimmering in the moonlight and casting a sinister glow across the iron bridge. Archer smirked wickedly before stating, "I would permit the lady to stay, of course. Victory always did give me a rush of _primal_ exhilaration." Isabelle felt an unpleasant shiver run up her spine at his words and was relieved when Diarmuid placed an arm protectively around her waist.

His voice was low and dangerous as he asserted, "My Master is not a toy for your amusement, _Archer_."

"Everything in this world is my toy, mongrel. She is mine to pleasure or torture, to hold or to hang... Every bit of that soft, porcelain skin is mine." Diarmuid let out a snarl and Gae Dearg instantly materialized.

"That is enough." Isabelle jumped at Rider's firm voice. "I am your opponent this night, King of Heroes. Please, allow my comrades to pass." Gilgamesh scoffed but nevertheless stepped to the side.

"Go now, and do not look back," Iskandar commanded, his eyes still trained on Archer. Isabelle wanted to protest but was stopped when Lancer abruptly hoisted her into the air took off at a sprint in the direction of Fuyuki Theatre. Gilgamesh blurred as they passed by. She half expected him to follow and was relieved when he did not.

 _Please, be safe._ She prayed as Iskandar and Waver vanished from sight.

A few minutes later, her feet hit solid ground when Diarmuid skidded to a stop at the theatre's entrance. Her servant surveyed the area carefully before trying the front doors. They were unlocked and after a brief inspection of the interior, he quickly ushered her inside. She recoiled the moment her foot hit the threshold.

"Isabelle, what's wrong?" Lancer questioned urgently as she took several steps backward, eyes wide with fright.

"You didn't feel that?" She breathed in disbelief.

"Feel what?" He pressed, looking quite alarmed. Diarmuid's hands settled on her shoulders and he peered down at her. He watched her blink a few times and exhale slowly, eyes never leaving the dark entrance.

"That aura," she whispered uneasily. "So malevolent and dark..." _Is this the Grail?_

"Perhaps there is a trap awaiting us somewhere inside. We must proceed very cautiously." She hoped he was right; she prayed the twisting, malicious magic was some spell or curse-

 ** _It is not._**

Isabelle jumped and spun around when the theatre doors suddenly slammed closed, leaving them in complete darkness. She worked to keep from hyperventilating as Lancer abruptly pulled her to him. A swirl of familiar mana let her know Gae Dearg was materialized. She gripped the back of his armor tightly and whispered an incantation, heaving a sigh of relief when a small orb of light appeared. Isabelle directed it to bob silently a few meters ahead of them, illuminating the surroundings as they walked. Soon, they came to a split in the hallway. Glancing back and forth, Lancer chose the path to the right and proceeded forward, stopping when Isabelle did not follow.

"Isabelle?" There was a question in his voice. She remained silent, staring down the dark hallway to the left with apprehension.

 ** _Isabelle..._** A silent, alluring voice whispered.

She shuddered violently before taking a step forward. Then another.

"This way," she indicated.

"How do you know?"

"Because I want to run in the opposite direction," came her only response. Diarmuid watched his master silently, feeling incredibly worried. She looked terrified. He could make out her trembling form even in the dim light of the theatre. Her muscles were taught, like a cornered animal, and her breathing was shaky and erratic. Lancer could feel her fear pulse through him even in the absence of a Command Seal. He felt bewildered. Isabelle was a powerful, intelligent magus who performed very well under pressure _. So, why is she so terrified?_ He did not have to wait long for an answer. One more turn led them into the central theatre and he jumped when an electric jolt shot through his body.

"The Grail..." He heard Isabelle breath, her eyes wide with horrified wonder. An ornate, golden chalice sat on display upon a long wooden table in the center of the stage. A white silken cloth sat beneath it. The cloth was turning red, a result of thick, crimson liquid overflowing from the goblet.

 ** _The blood of servants and unworthy masters._** The voice sounded broken, like several people talking all at once. Diarmuid did not appear to hear it and simply continued to proceed down the aisle. Isabelle hurried to catch up with him, brushing past the folded burgundy chairs and railings. When she finally reached the stage, blood from the Grail had already trickled down into the audience and was pooling at the base of the stairs. Hesitantly, she placed the tip of her shoe into the crimson liquid and, satisfied that she did not spontaneously combust or collapse into a fit of agony, she approached and permitted Diarmuid to pull her onto the stage. Her stomach churned when warm blood seeped into her shoes.

"So, this is the Holy Grail? The omnipotent wish-granting device that brought all this chaos and bloodshed?" Diarmuid uttered in disbelief, eyeing it with something akin to disgust.

"It would seem so," she replied, watching light dance across its golden surface. It had a strange allure to it and without thinking Isabelle reached forward to touch it. The moment her skin met its rim, reality fell away, plummeting her into darkness.

xxxxxxxxxx

Panic was the only emotion Diarmuid could feel. He paced back and forth across the stage in distress, ignoring the slosh of blood with each step. Isabelle was unreachable. She was gone. Well, not literally. Her physical form was still present but she was trapped in some kind of trance. Her eyes were cloudy and hollow, her body frozen in time with one finger delicately balanced on the rim of the cursed chalice. Lancer tried calling out to her and when that didn't work he grabbed her shoulder roughly. This resulted in a violent shockwave that sent him spiraling into the theatre's bloody mess. He scowled furiously at the Grail and considered using Gae Dearg to break whatever magic was at work but refrained. If Isabelle was truly trapped inside an enchantment, breaking the trance suddenly might injure her. Therefore, his only real option was to wait patiently as she sorted out whatever mischief the Grail intended.

Diarmuid felt a rumbling growl leave his throat as he resumed pacing. The Grail was not what he was expecting but then again, what mystical object ever was? Each one was cursed in some way. Rarely was magic ever what it seemed. It was for this reason he found Gae Dearg so useful; all magical effects were nullified when pierced by the cursed spear.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise." Diarmuid felt his body tense and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Spinning to face the balcony, he spotted Gilgamesh leaning casually against the railing. "I thought for sure I would need to hunt you down like dogs," the demigod mused before stating, "And yet here you are, a gift in celebration of my victory."

"Archer," he acknowledged with a scorching glare. Clearly, Iskandar had not been successful. The King of Heroes smirked widely, his sense of glee only growing when his eyes spotted Isabelle's frozen form.

"It would appear the Grail has taken hold of your master, Lancer," he drawled, watching the spearman immediately bristle. "It is, like me, constantly seeking entertainment and I'm sure playing inside the mind of your lover is quite amusing. I wonder what venereal, deliciously _agonizing_ entrapments it has concocted?"

"That is enough," Diarmuid hissed dangerously as Gae Dearg reverberated.

"Of course, you could free her with that Noble Phantasm of yours. What would happen, I wonder? Do you think her mind would shatter into a million pieces? It might be fun to find out. Be a sport and hand that spear over."

"Over my dead body."

"Suit yourself," Archer sneered before several Babylonian gates flew open.

xxxxxxxxxx

Isabelle felt her eyes flutter open and was surprised to find herself back at the Archibald Mansion. Glancing around, she spotted a sturdy wooden desk and several rows of bookcases. _I'm in the study,_ she realized slowly, swinging her legs off the couch to stand up. She stared at her surroundings, quite bewildered.

"What on earth-"

"Isabelle, dinner is ready. Come down and eat with me and your father." Isabelle paled at the familiar voice and a lump immediately formed in her throat. Tears prickled her eyes as she slowly turned around. A tall woman with long blonde hair and warm brown eyes was leaning against the doorframe, smiling fondly at her.

"Mom?" She asked shakily.

"Are you coming, sweetheart? If you don't hurry the food will get cold." Isabelle blinked several times, as if not believing her own eyes, before sprinting across the threshold and flinging her arms around the woman. There was no stopping the tears. She sobbed and sobbed, releasing all the pent-up emotion that had been building since the start of the Holy Grail war. The woman stroked her hair softly, rocking gently back and forth.

"Elizabeth, darling, is everything alright?" Isabelle sputtered in shock and squirmed a bit to see her father, Kayneth El-Mellio Archibald, handsomely dressed and standing on the staircase looking quite concerned over the whole ordeal.

"Everything is fine now," her mother said, "Our daughter is just upset about Diarmuid." Isabelle felt her blood turn to ice at the words. She froze in place, tears suddenly refusing to fall.

"Ah, yes... His union to Grainne must be heartbreaking but I assure you there are many more fish in the sea," Kayneth reassured her. "In fact, I have already spoken with several very prominent members of the Mage's Association who would be delighted to introduce you to their sons. I know you loved Diarmuid but you must admit marrying into a magical bloodline is more practical. Diarmuid would serve no purpose in enhancing our family's legacy. It's for the best."

Isabelle felt numb as she was steered down the stairs into the dining room. Her heart shrieked in agony, thrashing in her chest like a dying animal. She felt nauseatingly sick and swallowed the bile sizzling up her throat when a plate was placed before her. Isabelle watched as Kayneth affectionately kissed her mother's cheek before setting down a steaming cup of tea, a fond smile gracing his features. It made no sense.

 _Why do I feel so empty? What is this ache in my chest?_

"Isabelle!" A voice called out.

"Lancer!" She shouted suddenly, leaping to her feet with eyes desperately searching the room for any trace of the heroic spirit. She could hear his voice plain as day, as if he were standing right next to her.

"My dear," Elizabeth spoke calmly, "That man is no longer here. He is gone."

"No, I can hear him! He's in trouble, I need to go to him-"

"Your servant is gone!" Her mother suddenly shrieked, rising violently from the table and grabbing her wrist as Isabelle tried to recoil. "He is gone forever. You will remain here with me and you will _never_ see him again." She tried to wrench her arm away but it was no use, the woman's hand was like a vice. Isabelle tried to summon magic but her call went unanswered. There was no spark in this world. She was completely stranded in this whacky, alternate reality with no magic and no clear means of escape.

"Why are you trying to leave, Isabelle?" Kayneth asked, looking uncharacteristically sad as he rose from the table. "We are a family again. Is that not what you wanted?"

 ** _Is this not what you want?_** The Grail questioned, sounding strangely confused. The scenery suddenly blurred to reveal dark stairs leading to the basement. Isabelle immediately tried to resist but like a puppet on strings she continued to descend, stopping only once she reached the bottom. Her mother lay sprawled on the ground with blood pooling across a magic circle. Blonde hair was stained red. A note was clutched tightly to her chest along with Kayneth's ritualistic dagger. Isabelle trembled and a strangled sob left her lips at the sight.

The note read: " _I love you._ _You will understand one day."_

 ** _So young... I'm sure your mother never meant for you to see this but how was she to know? You were so inquisitive. Such a curious little thing, you were._**

Isabelle was looking at herself- a small child not more than seven years standing opposite the harrowing scene. Terror and confusion reflected in stormy blue eyes as she approached the magic circle, feeling it pulse like a heartbeat beneath her feet.

 ** _It was your fault, child._**

"What?" Isabelle whispered in disbelief.

 ** _Quite the powerful seer, your mother was. She foresaw my intentions long before you were even conceived. The day you were born, I branded you as a master. Your destiny was to fight and kill and slaughter in this great war. Your kind heart was to be filled with hatred and violence, a beautiful corruption. Instead-_**

"My mother made a pact with you," Isabelle breathed in understanding, eyes widening. Her heart and mind seemed to still for a moment, a strange sense of peace washing over her.

 ** _Yes,_** the Grail confirmed, sounding mildly irritated. **_She bought your freedom with her own life. And then your stupid father-_** The room suddenly began to shake. Walls cracked open and the ceiling groaned as books hurled from the shelves. **_Gave you entry into_** ** _my_** ** _tournament. Gave you access to magics that you couldn't possibly begin to understand!_** The ground was opening up, swallowing Elizabeth and young Isabelle into the depths as black flames shot up from the core. A sinister red glow could be seen at the heart of the abyss. Isabelle could feel the heat on her face. **_You had in your possession one of my all-powerful seals and you wasted it saving a worthless servant! You are nothing but an insignificant fly and yet you have the sheer audacity to steal from me?!_**

The Grail was howling with rage as lightning strikes of magic tore the universe apart. Isabelle gripped the basement railing tightly as the building thrashed and crumbled. She was extremely confused and more than a little panicked. The omnipotent wish granter was clearly throwing a tantrum and she hadn't the foggiest idea why or what to do. The fabricated reality was deteriorating. Black flames consumed everything in sight, burning the entire world to ash. The Grail was screaming and howling, insisting she return what was stolen.

"I don't understand!" She shouted over the roar of the fire. "What do you want from me?" An image of Diarmuid battling Archer suddenly appeared in the flames.

 ** _Give me back what is mine,_** the Grail hissed venomously. **_I require the nourishment of all seven servants and you have_** ** _stolen one from me_** ** _._** Isabelle blinked several times and the expression on her face clearly communicated that she did not understand. With a frustrated boom, their surroundings shifted again. The blurring of colors and erratic jerks of reality made her nauseated and she had to close her eyes for a moment, forcing bile back into her stomach. When her eyes fluttered open, Isabelle recoiled violently. Diarmuid stood before her with Gae Dearg fully impaled through his chest. Blood trailed from his open mouth and trickled from the corners of each eye as darkness consumed them. He swayed on his feet, gripping the demon spear tightly.

 ** _He was_** ** _mine_** ** _. His life force was_** ** _mine_** ** _!_**

"Diarmuid!" Isabelle heard herself scream before blinding golden light erupted from the wound in his chest. The energy billowed upwards like a geyser as she cried, "I command you to live!"

Isabelle felt her eyes widen and time seemed to freeze as realization struck her like a freight train. _I ordered him to-_ She couldn't believe this. With her poorly worded command seal, Lancer had been given life. She had ripped him clear out of the Grail War without even realizing it. His mana deprivation wasn't a result of their severed pact... It was caused by the Command Seal draining every bit of magical energy from his body. Diarmuid was a warrior and did not have large mana reserves like Isabelle. His energy was completely depleted, exhausted to such an extent that even with proper rest it was extremely slow to refill. _Plus, he was starving himself_ , Isabelle realized. Lancer was behaving like a servant when his humanity had already been restored.

 _And humans can die._ The thought startled Isabelle right into action. Ignoring the wailing and shrieking of the Grail, she scrambled toward the blinding gold light pouring from the ground and shouted:

"Diarmuid!"

xxxxxxxxxx

Lancer jumped and spun on his heels when Isabelle's panicked voice suddenly echoed around the theatre. She remained frozen on the stage but he could feel a new surge of magical energy pouring from her body, sparks of it were already crackling off her skin. Diving towards her, Diarmuid let out grunt of frustration when something cold latched around his neck and both arms. He craned his neck and grimaced at what he saw. A web of golden chains protruded through several Babylonian gates; they coiled and tighten around him, much like an enormous snake. One tried to curl around Gae Dearg but it incinerated on contact. It was clearly a magical weapon. _Lot of good my spear will do if my arms are immobilized,_ Lancer thought grimly before thrashing against the bindings. It was no use.

"Running away from the battle? But I was only just beginning to enjoy myself," Gilgamesh cackled as the restraints tightened further, hindering almost all movement. "Do you like it? This Noble Phantasm is known as the Chains of Heaven, it is one of my favorites. It is the very weapon I used to immobilize Iskandar before sliding my blade through his chest. I made his death quick out of respect but yours..." The King of Heroes paused to allow a wicked smirk cross his features, "I have decided to make decidedly slower." Diarmuid flinched when the chains tightened around his neck and began to tug at his right arm. "First knight of Fianna, I am going to slowly separate each limb from your body until nothing remains but bloody stumps. I do hope you survive long enough to make things interesting."

"Diarmuid!" Isabelle's urgent voice was calling out to him again, "Use Gae Dearg, Lancer! Get me out of here, please!" Lancer felt panic rip apart his insides _. Isabelle! She needs me, I need to break free-_

Diarmuid felt his eyes widen in shock when a blur of blonde hair whizzed by and a golden blade suddenly materialized. With one stroke, the chains binding him were shattered and Lancer collapsed to ground gasping for air.

"You're late, Saber. While I realize you were enjoying yourself with that mad dog, it is imprudent to keep me waiting like you did. You are fortunate Lancer was here to keep me amused."

"Archer," the King of Knights snarled, placing herself protectively between him and Gilgamesh. The golden spirit chuckled and lightly tilted his head to the side. She eyed the Babylonian king cautiously before addressing Diarmuid.

"Lancer, I did not expect to see you here. Are you alright?" She questioned calmly but he could hear the subtle undertones.

"I am fine, King of Knights. Your assistance is most appreciated." Artoria nodded her head once, hesitating for a moment.

"I am relieved to hear it. I apologize for our last encounter, it was not of my doing."

"I assumed as much, Saber." Her shoulders seemed to slacken a little and she exhaled deeply at his words.

"Go to your master, Lancer," she instructed firmly, "We will finish our battle properly once I have dealt with this rabble." Her words were cutting and Archer laughed maniacally in response.

"Oh Saber, look at that delightful expression," he continued to laugh while Diarmuid moved toward the stage. "You remind me of a ravenous animal, teeth and claws poised to tear flesh."

"Enough," she hissed vehemently. "You haven't won yet, Archer. This golden blade will be the last thing you ever see."

"Dear Saber, it is when you are delusional and crawling in the dirt that you are at your most beautiful. Why not lay down your blade and become my wife? If you do, I promise to share with you every pleasure this world has to offer."

Diarmuid refrained from commenting but couldn't stop his lips from curving upwards into a smirk at the sound of Saber's enraged refusal. Within seconds, Excalibur was clashing with weapons launched from Gilgamesh's Babylonian gates. The sound was nearly deafening but he paid it no mind. His master was only a few feet away.

xxxxxxxxxx

 ** _He is not coming._** The Grail taunted with a wicked cackle. **_He is dead. You will never see that wretched servant again._**

"You're lying!" Isabelle insisted stubbornly while standing within the golden light. "I can feel his presence. Diarmuid is coming for me!" Her surroundings continued to crumble in the calamity but thus far the circle of light remained untouched. However, it too was shrinking in size and would soon be extinguished. The devastation and destruction were unreal. Buildings toppled to the ground and the earth split open into giant fissures, spewing toxic fumes and magma. Everything was burning.

She jumped when a familiar flash of red caught her eyes.

 ** _NOOO!_** The Grail screeched when the tip of Gae Dearg suddenly protruded through the beam of light, slicing open the hallucination.

"Isabelle, take my hand!" The sound of Diarmuid's voice made her heart soar and without a second thought, Isabelle thrust her right arm through the portal. A firm hand grasped her own at the other end.

 _Come back to me._

Everything faded to white.

"Isabelle. Isabelle!" Diarmuid's panicked voice ripped through her subconscious mind as she inhaled deeply, gasping for air like she was drowning. Life seemed to rush back into her body with the oxygen and her eyes flew open. Terrified golden orbs stared back. Lancer was supporting her shoulders, his face mere inches from her own. Without thinking, Isabelle leaned up and abruptly kissed him. He jumped in surprise but responded quickly when her hands curled around his neck and dug into his chestnut hair. She kissed him fervently, like she was starving, before suddenly breaking off and throwing her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. This knocked them both to the ground.

"I am so happy to see you," Isabelle gasped in relief while kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead- anywhere she should reach. Tears streamed down her face and he wiped them away.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered softly, eyes brimming with unspoken emotion. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. And you-" She paused briefly to bury her face in his chest, "Are human."

"W-What?" He stuttered.

"Since my Command Seal, and the Grail is NOT happy about it, let me tell you..." She trailed off dismally while pulling him to his feet. "That fucking cup threw a temper tantrum of astronomical proportions."

"Wait, I'm human?!" He repeated loudly in disbelief. "How?"

"Something about how I worded the Command Seal, I guess..."

"So, I've been human since the attack on the safehouse? Then why were my mana levels so low?"

"The seal drained an enormous amount of energy from both of us. It would have returned slowly over time with proper nutrition and rest..." Isabelle trailed off when an embarrassed blush colored her cheeks. "I guess I was just a little overzealous with my proposed- ahem, mana transference suggestion." Diarmuid stared at her incredulously for a moment before breaking down into a hysterical fit of laughter. He gripped his sides tightly and gasped for air, laughing even harder when her blush darkened several shades. "What is so funny?" She demanded haughtily, completely ignoring the commotion going on in the background as Archer and Saber clashed. Lancer wiped some tears from his eyes before answering.

"So, what you're saying," he repeated, finally calming down, "Is that you not only saved my life, healed my injuries, and restored my strength but you also _accidently_ turned me human?"

"And battled a rampaging Grail to return to you, yes."

"God, I love you," he stated with a wide grin. Isabelle couldn't help but smile back. She grinned like a fool for several long seconds before finally turning to face Saber. She lifted her hand with the intent to heal the armor-clad woman but stopped short upon spotting movement at one of the theatre doors. Her face paled as a jolt of recognition shot up her spine. It was Saber's master. _Kiritsugu Emiya._

The man looked like hell. His clothes were torn and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were clouded and dazed, like he had just witnessed some gruesome horror. Saber glanced to her master with wide, expectant eyes. A childlike hope danced behind her emerald orbs and she readied Excalibur to deliver the final strike. Her face was set in determination as Kiritsugu raised his Command Seals.

"In the name of Kiritsugu Emiya," his servant braced expectantly, "I order you with my second Command Seal, Saber, use your Noble Phantasm-" there was a deafening pause, "to destroy the Holy Grail." Isabelle felt her body freeze in shock and she watched Lancer's eyes fly wide open. Within seconds, she was scooped into the air as her heroic spirit fled the stage, getting clear of the blast.

"Impossible! What are you doing, Saber?!" Gilgamesh shouted frantically while she struggled to resist. Artoria's teeth were clenched and she was doubled over, as if in pain. She jumped when Kiritsugu spoke again.

"By my third Command Seal, I order you again-"

"Why, Kiritsugu?! You, of all people... Why?!" She demanded furiously as her blade began to accumulate energy. Isabelle watched with horror as the weapon reverberated in her hands.

"Saber, you must destroy-"

"STOP!" Her drawn out cry of anguish was drowned out when her master ordered one last time:

"Destroy the Holy Grail."

Air seemed to shatter as a burst of heavenly light erupted from Excalibur. With one stroke, the weapon's unfathomable power obliterated the stands and engulfed the entire stage in a twisting whirl of blinding light. The explosion was deafening. Isabelle clung to Diarmuid tightly as he leaped through a hole in the ceiling, placing as much distance between them as possible. He skidded to a stop at Isabelle's horrified gasp. There, floating directly above the theatre, was a glowing orb of crimson blackness. The demonic sphere ripped open the sky, spewing thick magma and dark flames from its open mouth. The theatre was consumed instantly and the calamity soon spread to surrounding buildings. Crimson lava scorched through the streets, burning everything to the ground. Diarmuid was able to stay ahead of it but most would not be so lucky. Isabelle watched over his shoulder with a horrific sense of dread as the entire city was consumed in dark fire; swallowed in the wrath of the Holy Grail.

 **Epilogue**

"Mommy, did the Holy Grail really burn down Fuyuki?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Isabelle replied, setting down the tome they had been reading together and watching as her seven-year-old daughter scrunched up her face. "That doesn't seem very nice."

"No, it doesn't," she agreed, brushing a few strands of brown hair away from the girl's face. "That is why you must always be careful around magic objects- many are cursed."

"Not all curses are bad," the small child insisted. "Thanks to daddy's curse, you and I get to have matching tattoos! All the other kids at school are jealous- I think their parents are too, they make a funny face when they see my arm." Isabelle rather doubted jealousy was the reason behind their staring but didn't ponder the thought further. Instead, she watched in amusement as her daughter wriggled out of the pink sweatshirt she'd been wearing and placed her tiny arm on the coffee table. "Now you put your arm by mine," the child insisted.

"Alright, Artoria," she chuckled lightly before complying. The runes tattooed in black ink were completely identical between their two arms. Her daughter smiled happily, seeming satisfied with the comparison. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped upon hearing the front door unlock.

"Daddy and Alexander are home!" She squealed before scrambling off the couch and sprinting down the hall. Isabelle followed and couldn't stop a fond smile from gracing her features when she rounded the corner. Diarmuid stood carefully balancing a pizza in one hand, Artoria in the other and Alexander, their four-year-old son, on his shoulders. He teetered a bit, laughing at all the attention. Deciding to assist him, Isabelle walked forward and took the pizza, for which he was most grateful, before leaning up to give him a sweet kiss.

"Welcome home, love."


End file.
